If Only Things Had Been Different
by ShadowedRose17
Summary: Steve knew the fight had to end, before it destroyed them; arrested and taken to the Raft, he must deal with Ross, whose intentions may not be what they seem. Tony, meanwhile, has to deal with the repercussions of the Civil War and the shattered friendships left behind, but that's not all he'll have to figure out how to fix. (Civil War AU, Steve/Tony eventual friendship, no slash)
1. Too Tired To Fight Anymore (Chapter 1)

The cold and bitter wind whipped around outside the Siberian Hydra base, the loud noises of two supers battling to the death echoed chillingly through the air.

 _"This isn't going to change what happened!"_

 _"I don't care, he killed my mom."_

With that the fight had started, and it seemed almost unending despite the fact they had only been fighting a short time. A swing here, a blow with his shield there, Steve could tell that he was losing ground; not that he had any desire to hurt his friend, but he was determined to protect Bucky at all costs.

Even if it meant destroying his friendship with Tony Stark.

"He's my friend."

"So was I."

Pain that wasn't physical tore through his chest, he never wanted it to turn out this way. Tony had become a good friend since he had woken up in this strange time, and to see everything they had built come down in shattered pieces tore at his heart.

Still he fought on, to protect the friend, the brother, that he had lost seventy years ago. He would keep fighting for what he believed was right, no matter what.

Suddenly he was picked up and slammed against against the concrete pillar, pain shot through his body despite the super soldier serum that flooded his veins, it wasn't enough to protect him from the pain.

"Stand down, final warning."

Bracing himself against the ground he slowly moved to his feet, weakly forcing his body into a fighting position. Memories flooded his mind of a time that didn't seem so long ago when he'd been in this situation in an alleyway, only then it had been a bully he had been fighting, one of his friends didn't stand before him then.

Still, he couldn't help but say through panted breaths, "I could do this all day."

It was difficult when what was right felt so wrong, the weight in his chest felt enough to choke him entirely. The two of them couldn't continue like this, someone was going to get killed and Steve Rogers knew that that was far too much for either of them to bare, no matter the circumstances behind it. If he accidentally killed Tony it would destroy him, and if the situation were reversed and Tony accidentally killed him, or worse, purposely did? He felt sure that Tony would regret it for the rest of his life once the rage drained out of his system.

Tony lifted his hand to aim his repulsor at his face and Steve cringed, turning his head slightly. The dull ache in his chest growing, breathing was becoming harder both figuratively and literally.

As he glanced downward he noticed Bucky reaching for Tony's leg and froze for a moment. No, this needed to end and Bucky couldn't continue to be involved as injured as he was. Steve had to do something distracting, and fast.

Quickly he waved his hand and cried frantically, "Tony, stop! We don't need to do this!" Allowing the pain and slight bitterness of the situation to slip into his voice wasn't hard to do, it came effortlessly. He noticed Bucky grow still and slip back into his laying position, and prayed to God that he would get his hint and stay put.

"It's too late for talking, Cap," Tony hissed. "Actually, you should have done some talking, you know, when you found out my parents had been murdered? Yeah, that would have been nice to know before now."

"I should have told you, I'm sorry," Steve offered feebly, allowing breaths to heave out of him at the slight repreave. He glanced over at Bucky, who laid still and un-moving, seemingly haven slipped back into unconsciousness, and was silently thankful for small favors.

"You're sorry? You should have told me?" Tony swore loudly, shaking his head, "of course you should have told me!"

"Language," Steve murmured weakly, trying his best to break the thick, heavy tension in the air.

Freezing, Tony stared at Steve in disbelief. "Now you're joking at a time like this? Wow, Steve, classy. Is that how they were in the forties?"

"I'm just trying to-"

"I know what you're trying to do, you're trying to distract me enough to save your own skin, and the skin of that murdering monster you call a friend. Don't try to play me, Rogers! It's clear whatever friendship we had didn't mean a lot to you, don't pour salt on a wound by throwing around our _inside jokes_ while we're beating the crap out of each other!" Tony Stark, or rather, Iron Man, stalked forward, aiming his repulsor squarely at Steve's chest.

"Tony, that isn't true," Steve tried.

"Sure it isn't."

The blast thrust him backwards and he landed on his back, grimacing deeply as Iron Man loomed over him, stooping down over him and drawing his metal wrapped hand back. The first blow almost surprised Steve, but somehow he knew it shouldn't have.

Then another one fell, and another, and another, his vision began to blur and he could feel blood streaming down his face as he began to gasp. Stars danced infront of his eyes as the unceasing blows fell, and his head began to pound from the abuse.

"Tony.."

The blows kept coming, and Steve could feel the world spinning as he tried futilely to push Iron Man off.

"Tony, _please_."

The weak plea gave Tony Stark pause as he glared down through the suit at the man who would dare defend his mothers murderer. He watched blood drip down Captain America's face and jerked the Captain's helmet off to get a better look at the damage he'd already done.

The bruising along the side of his face was substantial, and Tony gave a dry snort, seeing Rogers in such a state. He knew he himself also had sustained quite a few injuries, despite the armor the suit offered, he might look just as bad.

However seeing the injuries fully didn't make him want to stop, if anything else the rage in his gut made him want to continue to beat Rogers until he felt sure that the man felt the same amount of physical pain that he did mental. He wanted to tear into him, to leave him bleeding out onto the concrete and let him watch while he killed Barnes, forget taking him into custody now, he wanted him dead.

There was no way he wasn't justified in his actions, Steve Rogers had betrayed him and abandoned him for a murderer, been the cause of Rhodey's serious injury, and there was no excuse for that. Whatever friendship that had been left after the ordeal with the Accords was decimated now, destroyed, shattered, dust in the wind.

Yet there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that if he did what he wanted to do, he would regret it for the rest of his life. He would never be able to stop himself from seeing his friend, no, _ex-friend_ , in his dreams; haunting him, and questioning how Tony could take his life in cold blood.

Because Captain America was a lot of things in Tony's eyes; a bad friend, a traitor, but despite it all, he wasn't a bad man, and how could he ever live with himself if he killed someone as defenseless as Rogers looked at this moment in time? Without his shield, the man didn't stand a chance against him.

It almost didn't stop him. As Steve weakly lifted a hand to try and push Tony's grip away from him, Tony hit Steve again, harder this time, causing his hand to fall away and a loud grunt of pain to escape his lips.

"Stop moving _Captain_ , you're staying right here until someone shows up to take you to the Raft, where you belong."

"Okay, Tony, okay," Steve breathed, "you win."

Defeat that Tony never thought he would hear was thick in the mans voice, it was an odd sound to hear from the star-spangled man with a plan, the one who never seemed to give up no matter what the circumstances.

Maybe this was destroying him as much as it was Tony? No, surely that couldn't be true, not after everything else.

"But let Bucky go."

The words caused Tony's softening heart to harden instantly, of course that's what this was about, that's what it was always about.

"Of course that's what this is about, it always is, isn't it, Rogers? I'm not going to let Bucky go," Tony growled, fury dripping in his tone, "I should kill him before they get here, it'd be really easy to claim self defense."

Steve's breath hitched painfully and he stared at Tony, wide eyed. "No, don't do that, I'm begging you. Let him go, I'll go quietly, but Tony, you don't know what they might do to him after everything."

"They'll lock him away, just like they're going to lock you away," Tony growled, "preferrably forever, hopefully you both rot in that prison."

"Hydra brainwashed him, it wasn't his fault, it isn't fair," Steve insisted, and Tony just grew angrier listening to his petition for his friend. "Don't do this."

"Don't tell me what to do, Rogers," Tony turned on his heel, feeling the rage bubbling back up into his chest as he stared down at the Winter Soldier. The man looked pathetic, with his one arm missing and the rest of his body badly injured.

Images of the video he'd watched less than thirty minutes before flashed across his mind, reigniting every feeling in his gut and making him feel physically sick. How was it fair that this man was still alive and his mother wasn't? That was the real injustice in this situation.

Powering up a repulsor and aiming it at the Winter Soldier's skull, Tony determined with himself that it was the right thing to do, eliminate the man who had killed so many people and the planet would likely even thank him for it.

However, Steve Rogers wouldn't. He forced himself onto his feet and moved up to the Iron Man suit from behind. At first he was unsure of his course of action, his shield laid near by and he felt sure he could grab it, but he was too tired and in too much pain for anymore fighting with his friend.

Instead he moved around Tony and dropped down on top of his friend and brother, shielding him from Tony's weapon as best as he was allowed, willing to take the blast for his friend.

Tony's hand lunged forward and he grabbed the back of Steve's uniform, flinging him to the side effortlessly with the strength of the suit. "Back off, Rogers!"

"Please!" Steve begged desperately, trying to scramble up as quickly as he could to get back to his friend. "Tony! Please!"

"No!"

The repulsor went off and Steve's heart jumped into his throat as he leaped forward, desperate to put himself in between the blast and his friend, but he was too slow.

The Winter Soldier was hurled across the room and past the pillars into bitter cold snow below.

"Bucky!" Steve tried to follow, but Tony Stark's iron grip grabbed onto him from behind and prevented him. Memories of Bucky falling from the train so many years ago danced through Steve's mind and he felt ill as he fell to his knees. "Tony, he..!"

"Let him rot," Tony said coldly, "the blast probably killed him anyway."

Agony ripped through Steve's chest as he sat there in defeat yet again. It seemed he was doomed to be so close, just close enough to save Bucky, but so far away.

He had been so close, he had done so much to save him, but it was never enough. He'd fallen from the train, he'd ran away after Hydra had destroyed his mind, and now he'd fallen from the building to the snow below, eerily similar to the first time that Steve had lost him but entirely different all at the same time.

Steve couldn't even bring himself to blame Tony, despite the fact that he wanted to yell and scream and blame him. He wanted to demand a ' _why_ ', but he already knew the answer to the question, his heart just didn't want to accept it. It was easier to paint people out to be the bad guy than to accept there was more to the situation than that. Tony deserved to feel the way he was feeling, and even Steve knew that.

Slowly he lowered his head to his hands, deep, quivering breaths escaped him as he tried to hold back his tears.

Tony watched the man as his shoulders heaved, but he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty. Easily he lifted the man from his sitting positon, twisting his arms behind his back, and began leading him out the other way, pushing him roughly and noting that he didn't seem to be resisting at all.

He'd managed to destroy Captain America, _w_ _ell, good._ Captain America had done a number on him and one way or the other, one of them was destined to end up this way, defeated and broken.

Silence filled the air between the two, no more words came out of Cap and it was almost unsettling. The rage, the emotion, slowly started to drain out of Tony and he just felt tired, tired and raw. The pain of the day seemed to grow numb and all he wanted was to hand Cap over to the authorities and be done with today, to go to sleep and forget that it had ever happened.

However to forget would mean that he would wake up tomorrow hoping that everything was how it had been, that the team wasn't destroyed, that his friendship with Steve hadn't been worth so little.

"Tony?" Steve's quiet voice startled him out of his musings as they made their way out of the facility, he looked up and the super soldier was tiredly looking back at him, pain both mental and physical etching every line of his face. "I really am sorry."

The words sent ripples of shock down Tony's spine, Roger's friend was likely dead and he was still apologizing for his actions? This was a level of defeat that he never thought he would see out of Captain America, ever, and he wasn't sure what to do with it.

As Tony let a deep sigh pass his lips, he got the strange feeling that after everything this wasn't over yet, and it was only going to get harder from here.

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

Well hello people of somewhere that is probably earth, how's it going? I figured I would address the people with an authors note!

This is the first fanfiction I've written in many a year, and I gotta say I'm kind of excited about it. I started this story just for fun and decided I would post it, because why not? It's not beta'd, so forgive any grammatical or punctuation errors that happen to be present, I do the best I can!

So to say a few things; I'm basing this solely off of what _I_ know of the MCU, I know nothing about the comics and this won't be adherent to them any more or any less than the movies are.

Also while I absolutely love movies, I have to say I am by no means an expert and I'm still picking stuff up as I go! There are a few movies I haven't seen, so if there are any errors due to that I apologize in advance.

In case it wasn't obvious, this is an AU, so it won't follow the story line pass the point of Civil War. Kind of a 'what if it had happened a different way,' outlook.

One last thing, I'm not really great at writing characters that aren't my own, which is why I don't write fanfiction very often and this is the first I've actually posted on this account; so I also apologize for the slight OOCness that will probably be present, but I also don't care. ;)

Anyway! Just an upfront little authors note, I'm not sure exactly how long this fic is going to be as it started out as me just having fun, and I'm not entirely sure where it's going to go, but I suppose we'll see! I have a few ideas!

Until next time!


	2. It's Your Fault, Rogers! (Chapter 2)

**_Trigger Warning:_**

In Tony's half of this chapter he has a panic attack, if that type of thing triggers you please be advised it's there! It's not severely intense, but it is present!

And to everyone else, I hope I don't go overboard on the friendship drama, but it's just so good I usually can't help myself. ;) I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter!

* * *

The Raft prison seemed smaller than Captain America thought that it would be, not that he was allowed to see much of it himself. It made sense, he supposed, it would be dangerous to house too many of them together in one place, or maybe the place was bigger than it appeared.

He could hear Tony and Secretary Ross talking as he was lead away from them, and allowed a soft sigh to escape his lips as his eyes to drift closed. He let the guards lead him, the fight and will to escape drained from him entirely either in his fatigue or the overwhelming guilt.

He knew that his friends were also here, and he couldn't push down the remorse that gnawed at his chest. He wouldn't be able to get them out, and they were only here because of him and, for the most part, his quarrel with Tony.

 _"It's your fault they were arrested, you know," Tony had mentioned almost casually during the flight to the prison. He had seemed eager to go himself, as if to be certain Cap would make it there at all, and he had managed to call his own personal craft to escort them there._

 _It was a fair enough assessment, Captain America mused, he wasn't exactly known for being compliant when it came to this type of a situation, so it was yet another thing that Steve couldn't blame Tony for._

 _Tony had been silent up until that moment in time, refusing to respond to Steve's apologies and seemingly content to ignore his existence, but Steve knew Tony well enough to know he was brooding, allowing it to boil over inside of him. Steve had been staring out the window waiting for the verbal thrashing to erupt from the rich genius, he wasn't surprised when it came._

 _"You're the reason that your team is in jail now, you and all your oh so clever ideas," his tone had shifted, and Tony let the words ooze out of him with as much venom as he could muster._

 _The tone Tony used brought Steve back to the first time they had ever really met, it was as if the last several years had never even happened at all, and they were back to being bitter acquaintances, or worse, enemies._

 _"How do you feel about that, Rogers? Was it worth it? Did it ever occur to you that you were sacrificing all your friends, for just one? Because that's exactly what you did, there was no self sacrificing hero play you could make this time, so you threw them under the bus instead."_

 _"That was never my intention," Steve responded slowly after clearing his throat, not trusting his voice._

 _"Intention or not, it's exactly what happened. What happened to laying over the wire, Rogers?"_

 _"I tried to cut the wire, Tony, and it blew up in my face."_

 _"You did not, the only person you tried to defend was Barnes, Barnes! Because he's your only tie to the dead world you left behind, right, Mr. 'Man out of time'?"_

 _"He's my friend," Steve gritted his teeth._

 _"Your only friend, apparently, and here I thought we were all your friends! Did none of us mean as much to you as he did? How selfish is that?!"_

 _"I let him 'die' before, I couldn't just stand aside and watch it happen again. I couldn't do that, not again!" Steve growled, anger obvious in his face as he stared Tony down vehemently._

 _Tony had the decency to look slightly startled at the proclamation, at least for a moment, as if he hadn't realized why Steve actually fought so hard to protect his friend._

 _"I had to hang on to the side of a train and watch as he fell to what I believed was his death, I was so close I could have reached him if I'd have had a second longer, but I didn't and he fell anyway. I couldn't just abandon him when I had a second chance to save him, I couldn't.." Steve's voice cracked and he lowered his eyes, rage draining from his body as he clinched his fists as tightly as he could, knuckles going white._ _"And yet you.." Steve trailed off._

 _He couldn't allow himself to believe that Bucky was dead, he had to hold on to the hope that maybe he had survived, he had survived worse in the past. If Steve let himself believe that Bucky was dead, there was no way he would be able to hold himself together any longer, so he had to hold to that shred of hope._

 _Silence filled the cabin of the plane and Tony mulled over this information in his mind, turning his head to stare out the window closest to him. He didn't feel guilty for forcing Steve to endure watching his friend die again, but he certainly felt something. Perhaps it was pity? It was hard for him to tell with the rest of emotions that rolled inside of his chest, the dull ache refusing to completely leave him, despite how numb he felt at the same time._

 _His stare turned to a hardened glare and he crossed his arms as tightly as he could manage across his chest, wincing in physical pain._

 _It was almost hard to remain angry with the super soldier, almost. Steve had done enough to warrant his wrath, but his reasoning hadn't been incredibly unreasonable, as Tony had first believed. However, it still wasn't justifiable, and after everything it was more than enough for Tony to remain furious with him._

 _Steve hadn't told him about the murder of his own parents, he had defended Bucky over every other friend that he had no matter the cost, he had destroyed the team, refused to negotiate about the Accords, and Tony was done with him._

 _Done trying to understand him, done trying to reason with him, done fighting with him, done with everything about him. The sooner they dumped him off at this prison, the better, and then Tony could set to work doing what he needed to do to get the other Avengers released, even if it had to be into his care, but Steve Rogers?_

 _Steve Rogers could rot, for all he cared, and Steve could see that all over his face as he forced himself to look up at the man yet again, and it hurt._

 _Steve tried to tell himself that he didn't get to feel that way, not after everything that had happened, but it hurt all the same. The idea that Tony was willing to give up entirely on him despite everything else they had been through together shook him, it made him both mournful and bitter._

 _Because even though there was a possibility the man had killed Bucky, Steve knew that if Tony needed help he wouldn't be able to deny him. Sure, he may argue about it to begin with, but he would be there in an instant to pull his friend out of a bind if it were possible. It wasn't in Steve Roger's nature to leave one of his friends hanging, if they needed his help._

 _"I promise you, If you ever need me, I'll be there," Steve said finally, letting his voice break the silence._

Suddenly Steve was jarred from his reverie, the guards jerked him to a halt and also easily back to the present. He looked up, expecting to see a cell-block, but was bewildered when instead his eyes met something more akin to a laboratory.

He felt a shiver go down his spine as he glanced to the side, a eerie feeling creeping into his chest. It seemed that this prison might not be everything it was cracked up to be, and he was beginning to wish he had fought a little harder to avoid it.

* * *

Relief flooded Tony Stark when he finally landed back at the compound, despite the fact he found himself limping painfully in.

His whole body ached from his battle with Captain America, but he refused to go to a hospital. All he wanted was a shot of something strong and the familiarity of home, or at least, the place that had started to feel like home.

It felt empty now, empty and sad, and Tony felt all the more lonely for it. With Rhodey being in the best hospital money could afford, whether he wanted it or not Tony made sure of it, and Vision hidden away somewhere likely dealing with his guilt, the 'homey' feel of the compound dissipated completely.

Heaving a heavy sigh he made his way into the kitchen area, and began digging through the cabinets for whatever form of alcohol he could find. Finding a bottle he made his way back to his office, dropping into his chair and tearing the top off of the bottle in a hurry.

He watched it flow into his glass and then took a sip eagerly, then another, and another, waiting for it to help numb him.

It was hard to get Steve's last words out of his mind, they buzzed around in his head like an angry wasp and he wanted nothing more than to squash it. How could Steve still try to act like his friend after everything? Tony couldn't comprehend it, couldn't understand why Steve would pretend like they were still friends.

They weren't, not as far as Tony was concerned, and he knew he had to forget what had happened today and focus on the task ahead; getting the permission to free the rest of the Avengers was going to be difficult, and he knew it would be contingent upon them signing the Accords.

That might be the hardest part, if their stubbornness was anything close to Rogers, and Tony knew that some of them could be. Otherwise they never would have been in the mess they were in to begin with, they'd be at home where they belonged.

Sighing, Tony poured himself another drink, getting a hold on his emotions after the day was difficult. His mind raced from one ordeal to the other, from his parents death, to Captain America and the Winter Soldier, to the Avengers, to the Accords.

Even back to Afghanistan, back to New York, back to Sokovia, Charles Spencer, Ultron, Wanda's nightmare, Pepper, everything, all at once. He was practically reeling as his mind raced and he struggled not to hyperventilate.

He knew in his mind he was likely having a panic attack, he had had them before, but he didn't want to admit to it.

He didn't want to admit that his PTSD still afflicted him, didn't want to admit that he had a problem, but when he was at his weakest it plagued him without mercy. He didn't have time for this non-sense, but it didn't stop, wouldn't stop, would _never_ stop, and that's all he could think about as he clutched his chest, feeling his heart violently race.

He tried to pull in as many breaths as he could, but he felt as if he were suffocating, and maybe he actually was under the weight of it all.

His hand trembled violently as he tried to pour another drink, tried to root himself in the present and not let go of it. As the alcohol began to work its way into his system, finally, he could feel the anxiety slowly ease and felt relieved.

It meant that he wouldn't be able to focus on the task at hand very easily, but there was time for that tomorrow, so long as he didn't have to endure his mind attacking him anymore. He was willing to sacrifice a day for the sake of his sanity, and hopefully in the morning things would look better than they did now.

Because right now, everything looked incredibly dim in the mind of the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

"Boss, are you alright?" F.R.I.D.A.Y's electronic voice echoed through the compound, and Tony noticed with amusement that she sounded concerned, it was a good decision to install her here too.

It was funny that his AI was able to display emotion so easily, though he had designed them, it still caused pride to flood his chest when he heard how human they sounded. He had done a good job, he should congratulate himself with more alcohol.

"Mm fine, F.R.I.D.A.Y," he muttered, his voice becoming slurred.

"Are you sure? That was quite the fight with Captain Rogers," the AI pushed lightly, and Tony found himself snickering.

"Stars-n'-stripes does pack quite'a punch, but I'm better," he said haughtily, "I won, didn't I? I even took his shield back, my father made that shield. I should get to keep it, don't you think?"

"You won with my help, sir," the irritation wasn't lost on the drunk man, who laughed outright, but the AI seemed to ignore the comment about the shield. Perhaps rightly so, Tony didn't want a response anyway.

"What would I do without you, F.R.I.D.A.Y?"

"I can't imagine."

Laughing again, Tony sunk down in his chair, drunken amusement flooding his system. It was really the last thing that he registered before finally succumbing to the alcohol, and passing out soundly in his chair. Tomorrow would be another day, tomorrow he would pull himself together and he would deal with things, but for now, blissful unconsciousness adsorbed him and he was grateful for it.


	3. Can't You Let Me Help? (Chapter 3)

"I'm sorry, _what did you say?_ " Clint Barton stared at Tony Stark, his eyes slightly wide and full of distrust and skepticism.

"Really, Barton, did you lose your hearing during your time in this insane asylum?" Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes, "I said we're going to blow this pop stand, I got clearance to get you out of here."

"What's the catch, Stark?"

"Always so suspicious, aren't we?" Tony groused.

"You know, when it comes to people who've stabbed me in the back, I do tend to be a little leery," Clint shot back, "call me what you want, but I think I've earned the right."

Heaving out a long sigh, Tony ran a hand over his face. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he hadn't even gotten to the difficult part of the conversation yet, he had hoped this would be easier. He listened to the sound of the water rushing around the prison, trying to clear his head and focus on the task at hand.

He had to do better, had to be more convincing, to get Clint Barton on board, and he knew that. If he were able to get him to agree, it would likely be much easier to get the others to do the same.

"Come on, Legolas," Tony tried, forcing his tone into jovial familiarity, quirking an uneven grin onto his face. "I'm trying to help, how does that make me the bad guy?"

"You made yourself the bad guy, Tony," came the cold response, "when you turned your back on your team over a petty feud with Cap. Pretty sure that makes you the bad guy, you know?"

"I wasn't at fault when it comes to what happened with Captain Rogers," Tony snapped, irritation seeping back into his tone as he threw his hands in the air, "and that wasn't why I did what I did."

"Oh yeah, right, uh-huh, it's not like you were so quick to turn everyone in, or anything," Clint narrowed his eyes at the man standing before him. "Did you even bother trying to figure out what we were doing? It's not like we weren't doing exactly what you would do, if the situation was reversed. Look me in the face and tell me you wouldn't undermine the Accords if you thought it was in the best interest of other people. Tell me you wouldn't do it, Tony."

"That isn't what this is about-"

"That's exactly what this is about," Clint yelled back, swearing before putting his hand against his head, "ugh, you just... you can't even... Do you even care?"

"Stop!" Tony snapped, angrily, "just stop."

Thick silence and tension snaked through the cell block, Tony stood with his fists clinched. He had to get a handle on this situation, he couldn't give up this easily, he would prove them wrong. No matter what he had to do, he would get his team back.

"I'm trying to get you out of here, maybe atone for putting you in here in the first place, what's so bad about that?" Tony shot, looking Clint squarely in the face.

"Do I gotta sell my soul to the devil to do it? Because I get the feeling that's exactly what I gotta do," Clint remarked.

"Why did I even bother coming to you first?" The snippy reply almost made Clint laugh out loud, a bitter sort of laugh, but he managed to hold his tongue.

"Did you? Should I feel honored? The great Tony Stark bothered coming to little ol' me first?" Clint deadpanned.

Frustrated, Tony practically stomped away from the archer. Mentally he scolded himself for being childish, but he was unable to continue trying to negotiate with Barton, he would start somewhere else, hopefully somewhere easier.

Sam Wilson.

"Hey, Sam," Tony tried, tentatively.

"Nah, don't start on me now, I don't want anything to do with what you're cooking up, either," Sam responded, shaking his head.

"Come on, I'm trying to get you out of here, you know that's what dear Cap would want," Tony pushed, "he wouldn't want his team to wither away here."

Sam leveled his eyes on Tony squarely, sizing up the unusual inventor before him.

"Your face looks a little worse for the wear, what happened anyway?"

He didn't miss the flinch that flashed across Tony's face as he looked away, shaking his head as he pulled a mask back around his features, schooling them into a casual smile.

"Nothing out of the ordinary."

"No?" Sam inquired, skeptically, "then what happened with you know what?"

"Ah, yeah, that went fine, great, actually," Tony stammered a little, "couldn't have gone better."

"You're a bad liar."

"No, actually, I'm a really good liar, it's just there's usually not a reason to lie, I'm better at the whole charming thing," a shrug and Tony smirked. "So, Sam, what do you say, do you want to get out of here?"

"What do I have to do?"

"Sign the Accords, and we can all go home," he offered the best smile he could offer. "Pretend this never happened? Start over? You know, we can sing kumbaya by a fire, all that jazz."

"I'm not signing the Accords."

Letting out a dull sigh, Tony began pacing slightly around the room. Why was everyone making this so difficult? All he wanted to do was get his team home, but it seemed that they just wanted to fight against him.

"What, did Steve corrupt all of you? You'd rather rot in a floating prison then sign a piece of paper and go home? What is the matter with all of you? Geez!"

"We all have standards," Barton said from behind him, and Tony could feel his face go red as he turned around to stare him down.

"Really, mister super spy? What about your wife and kids? Don't you think they miss you?" Tony knew it was a low blow as the words tumbled out of his mouth, but if he were honest, he didn't care. A low blow was what he needed, and he hoped that it would hit its mark.

When Clint started at him impassively, he pushed harder at the soft spot he knew existed, despite the spy's calm expression.

"You've always disappointed them, how do you think they're going to do, growing up knowing their dad is a criminal who was never there for them?"

"That's enough, Tony," Clint hissed through clinched teeth, his fists balled up as he lifted them and pressed them against the glass.

"And for what? Captain America? The star spangled man with a plan? Ha, you're no better than my father was, bet your kids grow up to be just like me. You'd love that, wouldn't you, Katniss?"

A loud bang echoed through the prison block as Clint punched the glass with as much force as he could muster. Pain instantly shot through his hand and he almost regretted it, but as he let out a breath that shook with rage, he couldn't bring himself to.

"I said _shut up_ , Stark, shut up!"

"I'm trying to help you, and you won't let me. I'm trying to get you all out of here! They're even letting me take Wanda back with us, isn't this a good thing?"

"What's the catch, besides signing the Accords?" Clint growled.

Silence filled the air for a second before Tony heaved out a breath, shaking his head slightly. Slowly, he started, "you all will be under house arrest for some time at the compound, like a probation, but it's better than being here and you know it."

"Out of one prison, into another," Scott Lang rolled his eyes.

Tony bluntly ignored the Ant-Man, uninterested in bringing him into the argument. It was one thing for Steve to bring the man into the fight, but he sure wasn't going to bring him into this one.

"Your family will be there, Clint, I won't even let you lose that cozy little farm house of yours, and until you can go back they'll be there, you'll have them and they'll have you," Tony tried, softening his tone as he lifted his head to look at the archer again.

Narrowing his eyes and staring at the ground near Tony's feet, Clint carefully weighed his options, clinching and unclinching his fists, rather painfully after the abuse they'd suffered, as emotions tore through him. On one hand, he could be with his family, but on the other it almost seemed hypocritical to accept 'help' from Stark now.

"I don't know," Sam said slowly.

"Rogers would feel a lot better knowing you all weren't here too, I'm sure,-" Tony almost bit his own tongue as he realized what he had said.

"Steve is here?" Sam asked, his voice stunned, "what happened? What's he doing here?"

"Ah, yeah, he's here, um, I was a little surprised to see he wasn't in the same cell block with you all, but maybe they thought he would incite a riot," Tony rambled, purposely avoiding the question.

"You said you were going as a friend!" Sam blanched, feeling betrayal work its way into his chest, and guilt followed quickly, "you told me you were going to help."

"Going to help?" Clint asked, quirking his eyebrow upward as he shifted his glance from Sam to Tony.

"Look," Tony said, holding his hands up, "it's complicated."

"How is it complicated? You lied, you went to bring him in, didn't you?"

"No!"

"Can't stop backstabbing people, can you?" Clint shot, rolling his eyes, "you're the problem, Tony. Stuff like this is why you're the problem!"

Tension flared back into the air and all Tony could do was turn and walk out the door, running a hand through his hair and grinding his teeth as he did so. The hallway stretched out before him seemed to mock him for his failures.

It seemed like no matter how hard he tried the situation went from bad to worse, just when he thought he had won them over, he had to go and stick his own foot in his mouth. He had done the same with Rogers when trying to convince him to sign the Accords.

So close, yet so far away, that's what Steve had said about Bucky, wasn't it? Maybe in that aspect, Tony could sympathize with him, nothing he did was ever truly enough. He was never enough for anyone, never enough for Howard, never enough for the team, never enough for Pepper, never enough for himself. Nothing he did was ever going to be good enough for anyone.

As he stalked back towards his helicopter, wondering what his next course of action should be, a thought occurred to him. He couldn't get them to come to his side, but just maybe their Captain could? Rogers might be willing to help him, if it meant getting his team out of here. He was loathed to talk to him, loathed to see him, but it was possible that it might just work, and then he would never have to see the man again.

A smirk flashed across his face as he made his way to Secretary Ross, his shoes clicked as he practically pranced down the corridor towards the older general. As he approached him he pushed boredom into his tone, a placid look plastered across his face.

"So, I have an idea I may need your help with. Actually, scratch that, I have an idea that I need the help of one of your prisoners with."

Ross looked at Tony with disdain, and Tony felt amusement well up inside of him. He didn't like the man, or trust him any farther than he could throw him, but he proved to be useful at times.

"What do you want, Stark?"

"I need to talk to the good Captain, he's gotta give me a hand with his little ragtag group of vigilantes."

"You know what I think about that," the tone was hard, and Tony could tell he was going to have to debate with the man.

"Well, I couldn't care less what you think about it, sir," sarcasm dripped from him as he breathed out the word 'sir'. "Y'know? It pays to be a billionaire, because of that some people above your head said I can take my friends home, with a little bit of negotiation, so if you'd do me a favor and don't get in my way, it'd be helpful."

"I can't stop you, that doesn't mean I have to help you."

"Where is Capsicle, anyway? Seems a little weird he isn't with the rest of his team."

"He's in his own ward, like Maximoff, surely you realize it would be an incredibly ignorant idea to put him in with the others."

"Sure, sure, now where is he? I want to see him, I need him," Tony pushed a little harder, looking at Ross firmly.

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Ross shook his head. "Wait here," he responded, walking down the hallway and disappearing through the door at the end of it.

It seemed weird to Tony that Ross hadn't allowed him to simply follow, to talk to Rogers in his cell as he had the other prisoners. Was there something different about Steve's cell, something he wasn't meant to see?

He didn't have much time to mull it over before Steve was being led out, a guard at each arm, and the entire air about him seemed off. He seemed stiff, as if his body still ached beyond anything tolerable, which was definitely strange considering his healing ability.

Tony watched the way he walked, an obvious pained limp in his step, and he almost found himself frowning. There should have been no reason for the man to still be that uncomfortable, he should in the least be mostly healed by now.

As they stopped in front of him, Steve seemed to compose himself and tilt his head upward, he forced a smile onto his rather usually pale face while Tony ran his eyes over him, looking for any obvious source of pain.

His face looked a bit thinner than usual and oddly ashen, but the bruises that had lined his face before were nearly completely gone. Obvious injuries didn't seem to be present, but it didn't take a genius to recognize the pain the Captain was in.

"They not feeding you enough, Rogers?" Tony tried to keep any form of concern out of his tone, urging ice into it, "you look awful."

"I'm alright," Steve managed after a moment, and his weak voice had Tony more convinced that something was going on.

"Look, I'll cut to the chase. Got the chance to get your team outta here, but they won't come with me because they're too devoted to you and all your patriotic glory to listen to me."

A flash of curiosity danced through Steve's eyes as he looked at the inventor before him.

"All of them? Even Wanda?"

"Even Wanda," Tony confirmed, nodding his head, "just need a little help from you, Spangles, what do you say?"

"How did you manage that?" Tony knew the question was coming, and he endeavored to prevent himself from botching this once again.

"Oh, wasn't hard, you know, throwing around a bit of money works wonders in the government and court now-a-days."

It was almost funny, the disappointment that flickered across Steve's face, it seemed it was hard for him to accept the corrupt judicial system. Tony could agree with him there, too, it turned his stomach how money seemed to work for people who deserved to be in prison, but of course would never see proper justice. In this occurrence, however, at least it worked in his favor.

"That's..." Steve trailed, shaking his head lightly, "why won't they go with you? There has to be a reason."

"They have to sign the Accords, and of course, since their fearless leader refuses, they refuse," Tony arched an eyebrow, looking at Steve.

Silence greeted Tony Stark, silence that he had expected but hoped wouldn't come, he was tired of arguing with people today and he simply wanted this to be done. It looked as if he was going to have to argue with Captain America again, and he doubted that it would be a pretty sight.

"They'd be out of here, where would they go?" The question actually startled Tony and his head shot up to stare at Steve oddly.

"The compound, they'd have to be under something of a house arrest for a while, being criminals and all. The public wouldn't stand for them just getting off scot-free, you know?"

"They didn't do anything."

"They destroyed an airport."

" _We_ destroyed an airport."

Tony winced, that was true, his team did have something to do with that as well. "Yeah, well, still, you know how it goes, Captain. It's better than here, don't you agree?"

Hesitation was clear on the mans face, his blue eyes clouded with uncertainty.

"Yeah, I agree it's better than here. What can I do to help?" He finally responded.

Tony chewed on his lip, staring at Steve's face. Something was definitely wrong, he would have to be blind not to see it. From Steve's appearance, to his unusual attitude, there was something desperately wrong, because it had to be very bad for him to be so desperate to get his friends out of here he was willing to help Tony without a fight.

It was almost enough to make Tony want to look into it, despite everything that had happened between the two of them.

 _Almost._

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

I'm almost sorry for all the argumentative tension between characters in the beginning of this story, but I feel like after everything that is exactly how it would play out. Let's be real, the MCU Avengers fight each other a lot anyway, probably more than they fight the bad guys, and with everything that's happened that's only bound to get worse realistically. But if you hang with me, it'll ease up, at least a _little_ within the next couple or so chapters!


	4. Go With Him (Chapter 4)

Walking into one of the main cell blocks, Steve felt relief flood his chest upon seeing most of his team unharmed. A light smile worked its way onto his face as he glanced at each of them, then he frowned before glancing over at Tony next to him.

"Where's Wanda?"

"Specialized cell, so I've heard," Tony remarked, shrugging. "Haven't been allowed back there, guess they're afraid she might kill me."

"But she's still going?" A small amount of wariness flickered across Steve's face.

"Yes, they'll escort her to the chopper last," he nodded, glancing back at Steve. "I _promise_ , Rogers, she is going too. It was part of the deal."

"Scott Lang too?" Steve said, looking towards one of the cells before him quizzically, as if he had almost forgotten that the person residing in it was here at all.

"Who?"

"Ant-Man."

"Yes, alright, Lang too. I did say everyone, didn't I?" Tony grumbled as he let out a begrudging sigh.

"Yes," Steve frowned a little, nodding, "alright."

If it had of been anyone else, Tony would have expected questions about the fact that he was getting all of the team out, with the exception of Captain America.

However, true to form, it seemed that it wasn't even on Steve's mind, or if it was, he was hiding it very well.

Sometimes Tony really did want to punch him in his perfect teeth, he would never understand how the man could be that way. Apparently his father had been right about Steve Rogers, it was clear that the man truly was Captain America, or maybe the persona simply embodied everything that Steve actually was.

Tony hated him for it.

"How are you so..." Tony trailed off, scoffing, and then shook his head, waving a hand towards the cells. "Work your magic, Capsicle."

Steve almost asked Tony what he was going to say, but the response died on his tongue. It wasn't as if he didn't want to know, he did, but the question would hang in the air indefinitely. To ask felt pointless, and besides that, the likelihood of starting another argument seemed very high.

He had a feeling he knew anyway, and honestly, he hadn't overlooked the fact that Tony was getting everyone out of this place except for him. Tony was going to leave him here and he was probably justified in doing so, Steve didn't expect any different, not really, so it was irrelevant.

However, that didn't mean he could push out the tinge of hurt that pricked at his heart as he walked towards the brightly lit cells, no matter how hard he tried. So instead, he pushed it aside to be dealt with later, when his friends were safe.

"Cap?" Clint asked questioningly, looking at the man carefully and studying his pale face.

"Clint," Steve greeted softly, with a fond smile, taking in the perplexed look dancing across the archers face.

"You've looked better," Clint's voice was soft, almost uncharacteristic of the man that Steve knew, "what happened?"

"A lot," Steve responded tiredly, "but you know me, I'll be alright."

"If you get killed, walk it off, right?" Clint remarked, rolling his eyes upward. "That doesn't always work, you know."

"I know."

"You bustin' out of this joint?"

"No, but you are," Steve said, firmly, his tone offering no room for argument, "go with Tony, Clint."

"Go with Tony?" Clint's voice sounded stunned as he stared at the man before him. "Cap, what have they _done_ to you?"

"Now isn't the time," Steve stressed, "it's important that you go. Tony isn't the villain here, he isn't the bad guy, he is actually trying to help."

"You're kidding, right?" Clint frowned, crossing his arms. "He's the one who put us here to begin with, he isn't totally innocent. You know he back-stabbed Sam, don't you? He told him where you were because he thought he would go to help you, as a friend."

"Clint!" Sam cried from across the room, mortified that Hawkeye would give away the fact that he had said too much.

"And he did," Steve said tiredly, leveling his eyes at Clint and speaking loudly enough that Sam could hear. He pushed reassurance into his tone, he certainly didn't blame Sam for trying to help him.

"He came to help as a friend, that's just not how it ended. There's a lot more to it than I want to go into detail about right now, but Tony _isn't the bad guy_ ," he finished, putting emphasis on the words.

"You're making it sound like Tony isn't the bad guy, but _someone_ is," the questioning tone in Clint's voice caused Steve to pause.

He glanced back at Tony, to see if the man was paying any attention at all, but he seemed preoccupied studying one of the empty cells, and Steve faltered a little. He had hoped that the man would listen, but it seemed he was still too mad to do so.

"There was Zemo," Steve trailed when Clint narrowed his eyes at him.

"What are you _not_ saying, Captain?"

"What I am saying is that all of you need to get out of here, and if you have to sign the Accords to do that, then do it. Tony said the documents can be amended, and I'm sure he wasn't lying about that."

"So you suddenly think the Accords are a good idea?" Clint countered.

"No, I still think the Accords are a terrible idea, I don't agree with them, and I won't."

"But you want us to sign them anyway? That doesn't sound a thing like you," the archers tone was growing cold. "You're not the type of person to go against your convictions, especially not in a situation like this."

"Natasha was right, she said that if we have one hand on the wheel, at least we can still steer. If we're all here, what exactly are we supposed to do, Clint?" Steve sighed, putting his head in his hand. "I think the Accords are a bad idea, but for now it's better than being able to do nothing. Besides, you have a family to think about, you never should have gotten involved to begin with."

"It was my choice," Clint retorted, "I made my own choice."

"I can't get you out of here any other way."

"Is that what this is about? You're so desperate to get us out of here, you're willing to do anything? What's that about?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Clint, do you _trust_ me?"

Clint paused, biting his lip as he looked at the apparently defeated Captain America. His eyes were sincere, but something was wrong and Clint wasn't naive enough not to see it, but he did trust Steve. He only hoped that in this case, it wasn't a mistake, and that the defeat he saw on the Captain's face wasn't something he should take more stock in.

"I trust you, Cap."

A weak and tired ghost of a smile worked its way across the soldiers face, and he nodded softly. "Good, and you two?" He turned to look at Scott Lang and Sam Wilson.

"I'm with you, Steve, you know that," Sam said softly.

"Guess if that's what you say, Captain," Scott agreed.

"Good," Steve turned on his heel to face Tony, "there, now go."

Tony's head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at Steve, scrutinizing him. "Well, all of a sudden you want us out just as fast as possible, huh? What's the matter, Rogers? Can't stand the memory of your failures anymore?" The venom that had seeped back into his tone surprised even him.

He almost felt bad when he saw the obvious hurt dance across Steve's face, but forcibly shook it off, reminding himself that the Captain deserved it.

"I would have thought you'd be eager to never have to see me again," Steve countered softly after a moment.

"So you are bitter," Tony shot back, and Steve cringed. "That's great, me too."

"Can we not do this right now?"

"Sure, how about we don't do this, ever?" Tony remarked, yelling for the guards to come and collect the Captain to return him to his cell, turning his face away. "I won't miss you, Cap."

"Tony, wait-"

"Ah, ah, ah, we're not doing this, remember? You may have forgotten, but I'm done with you." Waving his hand dramatically, Tony turned on his heel and began walking towards the door. "Nice chat, thanks for your help, Spangles, I can take it from here."

The retort he had expected never came, despite the fact that he had slowed his steps out the door just in case the man actually had more to say to him. He could feel Captain America's eyes following him as he walked out the door, until it shut automatically behind him.

Whatever he had to say couldn't have been too important, and even if it was, Tony found it hard to care as he walked back to Secretary Ross to tell him to collect his prisoners so he could get out of this miserable and gloomy place; and with his team in tact, thanks to Rogers, unfortunately he couldn't forget that fact. If only he could, if only he could forget the haunted look that Steve shot him when he had called for the guards to collect him, if only he could forget a lot of things, life would be so much easier.

"Get my team together so we can get out of here," Tony demanded the second he saw Ross.

"You seem eager," Ross rolled his eyes, "did your little altercation with the Captain bother you that much?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business," Tony scowled.

"Can't say that it is, just an observation. Doesn't matter, I want you out of here just as bad as you want to leave," Ross practically growled. "I can't believe you managed to work the system, again."

"Believe it, babe," Tony shot flippantly, then slowly his face formed a considerate expression. "What are you doing to Captain America to make him act like he's had the wind knocked out of him?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Stark," Ross replied.

"Of course you don't," waving it off, Tony shook his head, "just put a rush on getting everyone onto my chopper, and we'll get off your Titanic."

"Of course."

* * *

The ride home was filled with a cold, unreadable silence. Clint seemed angry, he seemed like he had a lot to say, like he wanted to tear into Tony as aggressively as he could, but instead he said nothing and that almost frightened Tony more.

Wanda stared out the window quietly, while Scott and Sam seemed to be having an interesting conversation about 'seeing the compound again,' despite the fact that Tony wasn't sure when Lang had been to the compound before.

He overheard something about stealing one of Howard's old devices, and decided to stop listening, whatever it was he really didn't care. He looked down at his glass, shifting it around and subconsciously stirring the contents. It would be better when they were all home and could take some time to cool down in their own quarters, at least Tony wanted to believe that.

He hoped it was true, because if he was going to have to deal with constant icy behaviors, it was going to be like dealing with a bunch of teenagers.

"So, do you really think this is a good idea?"

Clint's voice tore through the silence, pulling him out of his thoughts and he lifted his head to focus on Clint instead of the cup in his hand.

"Sorry? Think what is a good idea, Legolas?"

"Leaving Steve behind."

That hadn't been the response he had been expecting, but maybe he should have expected it, with how undyingly loyal Clint seemed to be.

"Yeah, not really having any second thoughts about that one," Tony droned, "if he beat the crap out of you, you probably wouldn't have second thoughts either."

"If I saw him looking like he did today? I'm not so sure I wouldn't have second thoughts," Clint responded, his voice firm and forceful. "You did see the same guy I saw, didn't you? He looked haunted, and he looked physically sick."

"Yeah, I noticed."

"He's a super soldier, he shouldn't be sick, should he? Wouldn't his immune system do something about that?"

"Can you drop it?" Tony complained, rubbing his forehead. "You're giving me a toothache with how sweet your undying devotion is. I thought Sam was the Captain America fanboy, I didn't realize you fell under that category too, Clint."

"You don't want to think about it, do you?" Tony could practically hear the frown in Clint's voice. "You're so ticked off about whatever happened, you're willing to overlook the fact that something's wrong with him? What, because you're mad?"

"He defended a murderer."

"Boo-hoo, cry me a river, Stark. The Winter Soldier was brainwashed, I'd know a thing or two about that one, it sucks," countered Clint, swearing before he continued. "Besides, you've done some questionable stuff too, does creating Ultron ring a bell? Steve would still come running to your rescue, if you needed it."

"That wasn't personal."

"You know, it became pretty personal."

"Enough," Wanda's voice gave the both of them paused as she looked over to where the two of them sat. "Are the two of you not tired of all the fighting among ourselves? Because I am growing tired of it."

Clint looked at the girl for a moment before glancing at Tony and scoffing, positioning his back more firmly against the wall and turning his head to look away.

Tony took it for what it was, a sign that the man didn't trust him enough to turn his back on him. "Well, that's fine, if that's how it's going to be."

"It is," the response hung in the air and Tony scoffed.

"Really, I don't know Wanda, don't you see what I have to deal with?" He groused, and the Sokovian looked over at him, thinning her lips.

"What was wrong with Steve?" She asked carefully.

"I don't know," Tony shrugged, "I don't really care, either."

"I see," she responded, nodding her head a little.

"That's it, no judgement from you? No 'oh, poor Cap, Tony, you should care more' like everyone else on this chopper of mine?"

"I know you care," Wanda said knowingly, looking up at Tony with an expression that made him recoil slightly. "At the moment you are simply angry because you are hurt, not because you do not care."

Tony stared at her for a moment, biting down on the inside of his lip as a question began to roll around in his mind. Did she know what she had made him see, during their first encounter? Was she truly aware of it?

"It is obvious that you care, if you look past the facade that you put on for everyone," Wanda responded. "You are constantly trying far too hard for someone who does not care at all."

"I put you under house arrest."

"I was aware you were trying to protect me, I never doubted that," the sigh that echoed seemed pained, "however, there would have been better ways to go about it."

"Maybe so," Tony admitted.

"Everything went wrong, I believe we can all admit that, it was no one thing, and no one person is to blame. However, you can not hold it against him forever, you know."

"Maybe not," Tony mumbled, shaking his head slightly. Maybe he couldn't, but for now, he definitely would try.


	5. Looking Up? Not For Me (Chapter 5)

Life at the compound was far from normal, but it was lively again, and at the moment that was all any of them could really ask for, it was all Tony could ask for.

Yes, a thick tension continued to linger in the air, and certain members of the group refused to speak to him at all, but at least they were here and they were safe. Not to mention, Clint's wife and kids really made the place spring to life, Tony could see why Natasha was fond of them. Family life really did look good on the archer, there was no denying it.

Sam settled back in easily, and Scott also had no trouble acting as if he'd lived at the compound forever. The ex-criminals stupid humor usually broke heavy tensions, though it was really only because the others would stare at him in annoyance and forget any verbal match they had been having. He and Lang for the most part ignored each others existence, and Tony was perfectly fine with that.

Wanda didn't quite slip back into her role at the compound as easily, and for the most part she stayed confined to her room, on her own. She and Vision seemed to avoid each other, though Tony wasn't a hundred present sure they weren't seeing each other behind his back. He wasn't sure why they felt the need to hide it if that were the case, but they did.

Tony himself spent most of his time in the lab, working and reworking projects, anything to keep him busy and distracted. When he wasn't in his workshop he spent his time with Rhodey, who had been happy to finally leave the hospital and arrive at the compound.

The second the man had set foot on the property, Tony started work on anything that could possibly help his friend walk again. He had come up with a few designs before settling on the one that the man now possessed, and to his delight he seemed to be making progress with it despite having some problems originally.

It still made him sick to watch his friend stumble occasionally, or to witness the emotions that flashed through his face in the moments of realization, despite stubbornly demanding that he was going to be just fine.

None of it should have happened, and Tony couldn't deny that part of it was on him, but in the end he felt himself taking more and more of the blame. If he had of done this, or if he had of changed that, there had to of been something he could have done to prevent the accident that took Rhodey's ability to walk.

Rhodey never seemed to think so, in fact Tony was sure if he had brought it up that he would have been angry at the billionaire for thinking it, but Tony couldn't shake the thought.

Despite everything, however, a plus to the situation of them all being there together was that Rhodey seemed to get along with 'Caps' side of the team alright. Of course they bickered, but they seemed to be growing on each other the longer they were around one another, which was more than Tony could have hoped for.

Leaving his workshop for the first time in forty-eight hours, Tony hoped that not many people were awake yet. He simply didn't want the burden of running into them on his coffee run, but he desperately needed the boost that it offered.

He had tried to sleep at first, he really had, but the more he tried the more the nightmares plagued him and now he hardly bothered. When he could no longer function, that's when he slept, and thus far it was working out alright, though he knew he wouldn't hold out forever.

After filling the coffee maker and starting it, he tiredly pulled out a bar stool and sat down, leaning his elbows against the counter and rubbing at his eyes.

His head throbbed from lack of sleep, and the tiredness weighed his eyelids down as if they wished for some sort of relief. He allowed his consciousness to slowly fade away from him as he sat there, and slumped forward slightly.

 _You could have saved me, why didn't you do more?_

It wasn't a minute later he found himself shooting straight upwards, Steve's voice rattling through his head with the same amount of clarity as it had the day he'd had the nightmare, or vision, or whatever it had been. His face flashing across his mind, though different from his dream, with the appearance he'd seen several days ago on the Raft, haggard and pale.

Tony wanted to scream, wanted to punch the counter and let out the steam that was building up inside him, burning in his chest. Why even now did the Super Soldier get to torment him, when he had done everything he could to get the man to see reason, and he hadn't? What happened to him wasn't Tony's fault, so why did his subconscious mind imply that it was?

Why was it that Tony had to feel like the bad guy, the one who deserved to take the blame? It wasn't _fair._

Taking a shaky breath and clinching his fist in front of him, he watched it tremble, before reaching up and rubbing his eyes again, resting his hand across them.

"Ugh, I'm in the right for not forgiving you, Rogers, when you even haunt my dreams," Tony said to the air, dryly, "could you maybe not _do_ that?"

Silence was his only reply, but in the silence Tony heard a noise shift behind him and whipped around, hands lifted to fight if necessary.

"Can't sleep?"

Tony's eyes met Clint Barton's with hesitation, carefully observing the archer as he walked to the table in front of him and sat down.

"No," Tony admittedly slowly, narrowing his eyes and shrugging with apparent indifference, "what about you, Legolas?"

"No."

"Reason?" Tony pried, curious as to the reason behind the archer's sudden friendlier behavior.

"A lot of em, I guess," Clint mumbled, shaking his head as he stood and took the coffee pot from the burner, smirking mildly. "I smelled coffee, for one."

"Hey, that's mine, bird-brain, back off," Tony hissed, but with no malice behind his words. They barely came out as more than a soft growl, as tiredness edged into his tone.

"Sounds like you need it more than me," Clint sighed, pouring two cups and handing one to Tony.

Surprised flashed across Tony's face as he glanced up at Clint suspiciously. "Alright, what do you want, or what did you break?" He shot, "or is this poisoned, are you that good of a spy that you could slip poison in it in front of me?"

"Shut _up_ , Stark, and take the mug," he grumbled, thrusting it into his face.

Tony tentatively took the mug, wrapping his hands around it and enjoying the warmth that gradually worked its way through them. Slowly he nodded, taking a sip, "thanks Barton."

"Yeah, no problem," the man replied, reclaiming his seat tiredly, "I was just thinking, Wanda's right, you know?"

"Do I know?" Tony responded carefully, eyeing the man and taking another sip.

"We really should stop duking it out with each other, it isn't doing anyone any good," Clint replied, looking down at his coffee.

"Thought you hated me, didn't trust me," Tony remarked, quirking an eyebrow upward and looking squarely at the man in front of him, "you made yourself pretty clear on that."

"Well, maybe I overreacted, a _little,_ " a heavy sigh passed Clint's lips.

"Is this from Wanda, or Mrs. Barton?"

"A little bit of both, I guess."

"Well, if you're calling for a truce, I'm willing to consider that," Tony said, looking at the man before him, and he felt a small, genuine smile playing on his face for the first time in quite some time. "As long as you're not about to pull a Steve and go, 'oh, but by the way, can we rescue Cap?' Because if that's the case, I might have to throw you off the compound."

"You two really had it out, didn't you?" Clint tilted his head slightly.

"More than you know," Tony chose to let the topic change go, but silently wondered if the once S.H.I.E.L.D agent had actually been about to plea Rogers case.

"Why don't you tell me about that?"

"What are you, my therapist?" Tony scoffed, sitting his coffee mug down.

"Do you need one?"

"Barton, you're scaring me, what are you up to?"

"Tony, you look like you haven't slept in seven years," Clint started, shaking his head, "I really am not the kind of guy who is going to snipe at you from my nest while you suffer, much as I'm sure you think differently. You were nice enough to bring me home to my wife and kids, there has to be a heart underneath that tough exterior somewhere, and by the way, I'm not talking about the suit."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tony shrugged. "Me? A heart? You have to be mistaken."

"Yeah, right," the archer rolled his eyes, taking another drink, "but if you ever need to talk, I'm here, you know that now. Have fun brooding, tin man."

Tony watched as he stood and walked out, a light smile playing across his face once again. Maybe things were finally starting to look up for him, maybe they were actually going to get better. Having a decent conversation with Barton was definitely a step in the right direction, as far as Tony was concerned, he could only hope that things would get better from here.

Pulling himself to his feet and rubbing out some of the knots in his back, he put his mug in the sink before making his way back down to the lab, he still had more work to do.

* * *

Steve could feel his heart pounding in his head, and the pain behind his eyes was enough that he never wanted to open them again.

 _You have to, Rogers, you can't give up, open your eyes._ He mentally scolded himself.

He felt disoriented, and it took him a moment to register where he was. When he finally tried to peel his eyes open painstakingly, the brightly lit room blinded him, making the pain worse.

Quickly he squeezed his eyes shut again, wincing deeply and moaning softly, before forcing them open and glancing around his darkly colored surroundings. The walls seemed to be made from steel or some other metal, and the laboratory equipment spread about caused it to feel smaller and more suffocating than it actually was.

Sucking in a breath, he glanced at the wires running from his body, his eyes falling on the IV in his arm which he was tempted to try and rip out.

His stomach gurgled, making anguished sounds, but Steve didn't acknowledge it as he tried to shift slightly, only to find that his limbs were still strapped down and agony tore violently through his body.

He was still trapped in this nightmare, and it turned out it wasn't a dream at all.

"You're not going to start struggling again, are you, Captain Rogers?"

The familiar voice sent shivers down Steve's spine, and he froze entirely. He didn't dare open his eyes and refused to move, not wanting to acknowledge the man before him. Silence stretched out but a moment, before the voice spoke again.

"Really, Captain, do you think ignoring all this is going to make it go away?"

"No, but it might make you go away, General. I'd imagine you have better things to do with your time," Steve countered, rather quietly.

"Do I? Like cleaning up the messes you and your friends make?" Ross droned.

"I feel you're less concerned with that than you make yourself out to be," Steve shot back tiredly.

The older mans chuckle made Steve cringe slightly, but he lifted his head to defiantly stare at the man in the face.

"Observant, aren't we? You aren't even supposed to be the intelligent one of your group, but it seems you see what the others missed," the calm tone the man spoke with was grating to Steve, because he was in control of the situation and they both knew it.

"Well I would, being on this side of your obsession, wouldn't I?" Steve said roughly, trying to squash the pain and ignore the fact that he was trapped. However it seemed that ignoring it didn't change the fact that there was no way out.

It wasn't as if he hadn't tried, he had tried to get out the very first day. He fought with all of his might when he'd realized what was going on, he made it out into the corridor, but he knew he was too weak to keep fighting for long with his injuries. He'd yelled for help, hoping that Tony hadn't left yet, but no one had came and he could only assume that no one had heard him. The alternative wasn't a pleasant thought, and so he refused to entertain it, self inflicted misery was the last thing that he needed.

It wasn't but a moment later that he had felt a pinprick on the back of his neck and his entire world had went black, and from there it began to spiral out of control. The scientists here did what they could to keep him as weak as they possibly could, so he would be unable to interrupt their work.

When he had awoken the first time his entire body felt like nothing more than dead weight, he couldn't move, could barely think, it was a wonder that his body even remembered to breathe on its own.

They drained blood out of him daily, and he knew they were researching the serum, Ross himself had told him as much not even a day after his imprisonment.

That wasn't so bad, but the other experiments? To see what limits that the serum truly had? They were that bad. To Steve, it was torture, but everyone here seemed to call it science.

"The Super Soldier, maybe not as strong as everyone imagined, hm? If I'm able to keep you down, how good are you, _really,_ without your shield?"

Steve stared forward, reminding himself that he had nothing to prove to the twisted man before him who proclaimed him a criminal.

"You're not going to be able to do this," Steve murmured, shifting his eyes back up to meet Ross's.

"Really?" Ross shot indignantly, "and just why is that, Captain?"

"Better men than you have tried."

The moment the words left his mouth, he could tell it was a mistake by the rage that flooded the General's face, his face flushed red and he took a step forward.

"Let me tell you something, _Rogers_ , I've come this far and I've done too much, I'm going to recreate the perfected Super Soldier Serum if it's the last thing I do, even if I have to drain you of every _ounce_ of blood you have just to do it."

Swallowing, Steve bit back the retort that rose into his throat. He shook his head, wincing when the world began to spin slightly at the movement.

"You can try," he offered, "but I can guarantee you, it won't happen."

"We'll see about that, won't we?"

Steve glanced up, slightly startled as the scientists entered the room once again, while Ross smirked in amusement at the sight of Captain America flinching.

"Have a good day, won't you, Captain?" Ross remarked with a cool laugh as he exited the room.

The sarcasm wasn't lost on Steve as the scientists began their 'work', causing agony to rip through his body once again. He wondered silently how long he would actually be able to take this, before trying to steel himself against it.

He could do it, he had to, what other choice did he have? Steve Rogers would fight to the last breath, no matter what.


	6. It All Makes Sense Now (Chapter 6)

Over the past several weeks group training had been quite an ordeal, falling back into the routing of Avengers training seemed odd without Natasha and Steve there to lead it, they had always been far better at that kind of thing than Tony had.

He had done his best, but Tony Stark wasn't the most strategic person on the team and it showed. He missed the days when he was able to be spontaneous and not have to worry about the entire team failing for it, but it seemed that those days were in the past.

He had tried in the beginning and it had ended disastrously, with damage to some of the compounds landscaping; due almost entirely to Scott Lang's 'party trick' and Sam's determination to beat the Ant-Man in combat and redeem himself from whatever had happened before.

Tony still didn't know what that was, and to be perfectly honest, he had no desire to know.

Wanda seemed more hesitant to begin training again, after everything that had happened, and Tony was glad to see Vision attempting to pull her out of her shell once more. He wasn't sure that he was getting anywhere, but at least he was able to try, which was more than Tony could say for himself.

He was still a bit skeptical of talking with the girl, though she seemed to old no hard feelings towards him. After seeing her chained like an animal on the Raft, it was hard not to allow his thoughts to drift back to that every time he saw her. It had been everything that he had been fighting against, and to see that he had failed bothered him more than he cared to admit.

That aside, even Rhodey seemed eager to try and get back into the fight, and Tony was glad for it. He had been making progress with his mobilization, and he seemed to be adjusting to the modified War Machine suit with ease. The man was eager to metaphorically get back on the horse that had thrown him, and he was flourishing.

Over all, it was nice to see the team training again, and everyone was involved in one way or another. Even as retired as Clint insisted he was, the archer still couldn't pass up joining in the fun, and fortunately it was apparent that his wife didn't fault him for it.

"Retirement didn't suit him," she'd admitted to Tony as the pair of them stood on the sidelines, watching some of the members spar.

Tony watched as Clint fired his arrows, effortlessly hitting every target that the simulation Tony had designed for them could spring on him.

"No?" He questioned, glancing over at Laura with interest.

"No, he had more energy than he knew what to do with, and he seemed more on edge than he did before," Laura smiled fondly as she watched her husband, "and he's always been bouncing from one project to another, but he threw himself into them even more. Of course he spent time with the kids and I, but he just wasn't himself. He _has_ been since he's been back here, or at least, he's getting there."

Tony nodded in understanding, it was difficult to give up the life they lived, and he knew that. He had tried his best to do it for Pepper, but had failed in the end. Tony Stark couldn't stop because he didn't want to, he was Iron Man, the facade had become more than a suit to hide behind, it truly was a part of him.

He doubted that Clint truly wanted to stop either, it was obvious that the man was Hawkeye just as much as he was Iron Man, but he had wanted to make his family happy and had done what he could to put them first, it was admirable.

"I'm glad he's back," Laura admitted, and Tony looked over at her, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"I'm glad he's back home, but I mean I'm glad he's back here," Laura clarified, noticing Tony's curious glance, "I'll admit I wasn't at first, especially under the circumstances, but watching him now? He's doing what he loves again, and even though I'll always worry, if it makes him happy, then I'm happy too."

"Mrs. Barton, you're an angel," Tony said, shaking his head, "Clint's lucky to have you."

"I'm lucky to have him," she responded, smiling fondly.

He hoped the man truly realized how lucky he was to have such an understanding woman in his life, it was almost beyond Tony how the woman could deal with so much and still be more than willing to allow her husband to live this life.

It had been more than Pepper could take, and in the end he couldn't fault her for it in the slightest. He understood, more than she knew, exactly why he had driven her away. It hadn't just been the life, of course, it had also been him, and she deserved better than him.

The thought caused a stabbing pain in his chest, and he knew it was time to bow out and head down to his workshop once again. He made his way into the building and down the stairs, tiredly. He moved into his workshop and grabbed a glass off the counter, determined to pour himself a drink before he threw himself into his work.

"Tony."

Jerking his head up with alarm, Tony took a moment to recognize the voice before his eyes fell on Black Widow as the woman walked out of the shadows.

"What in the world are you doing here?" He shot, his eyes wide as he turned around to fully face the woman. "How did you even get in?" He questioned, before realizing who he was talking to and shaking his head dismissively.

Quirking an eyebrow upward, Natasha Romanoff rolled her eyes and walked to his work bench, leaning against it and staring him in the face.

"I found out some information you need to know."

"Really? Thrill me!" Tony said sarcastically, waving his hand exaggeratedly before rolling his eyes. He poured his drink anyway, moving over to the opposite side of the work bench, determined not to turn his back on the spy. Either from lack of trust, or stubbornness, he couldn't be bothered to figure out which.

"There have been reports of a super soldier, or possibly more than one, terrorizing New York," Natasha said, looking at Tony knowingly, before stepping over to Tony's TV and flipping it on, searching for a news station.

"A super soldier?" That got Tony's attention, he frowned and crossed his arms, a thought flashed across his mind and he froze in his place for a moment. "Is it Barnes?"

"No," Natasha confirmed, and Tony let out a small breath, "no one has heard anything out of Barnes since your last altercation with him."

"Really? That's a relief, I'd hope not," Tony responded, looking thoughtful. It was always possible that he wasn't dead, Tony had been too occupied to really go back and check. However, as far as he knew, Natasha wasn't actually completely aware of his last 'altercation' with the Winter Soldier.

"Focus, Stark," Natasha snapped, looking annoyed.

"Oh, sorry _Miss Romanoff,_ do continue," Tony grumbled.

Slowly he leaned against his work bench, looking towards the TV as the news anchor spoke of the devastation wreaked by the unknown soldier, or potential 'solders'. It seemed that there was a death count, though no one knew the motivation behind it. Were they just going off the deep end, or was there a purpose to it all? Who had sent them? There were definitely more questions than answers.

"Don't you find it a little funny that you haven't been called out to it yet, Tony?" She started slowly, pursing her lips together. "You haven't even heard about it yet, don't you find that weird?"

"Are you saying I should?"

"I just imagined you would, all things considered, it's clear the authorities are having a difficult time stopping them," Natasha crossed her arms, looking at the genius expectantly, "besides, you're the one who is automatically suspicious about everything."

"You know something more, don't you?"

"No, but I have a theory," Natasha confessed, glancing at Tony.

"And what is your theory?"

"The reason why they haven't called you, is because they already know why they're loose to begin with," Natasha supplied.

"What, you mean they had something to do with it?" Tony blinked, a soft hum in his throat, eyeing the screen carefully, "that would make sense, wouldn't it? Someone has to be making them, or attempting to make them. It's clear they're not doing a good job, unless they intended to create homicidal maniacs."

"Tony, there's something else," Natasha said slowly, a bit more hesitantly, which caused Tony to look up instantly.

Natasha wasn't one for being hesitant about anything, she bluntly spoke her mind with no concern over who cared. Something about the woman sounding unsure made Tony's blood go a bit cold, and caused an anxious feeling to settle in his chest.

"Just spit it out," Tony demanded.

"You know, for a genius, you can be pretty dense," Natasha growled lightly, "who has had worked in the field of super soldiers before, someone that we both know?"

Tony stilled for a moment, allowing the thought to sink in. It took only a second for the connection to click, and Tony blinked in surprise at the thought as all the pieces began falling into place before him with surprising clarity.

 _You're making it sound like Tony isn't the bad guy, but_ someone _is. What are you not saying, Captain?_

 _What I_ am _saying is that all of you need to get_ out _of here._

Tony had pretended that he wasn't listening to the conversation, but it was impossible for him to ignore it completely, though now it seemed that maybe he had ignored it to some degree despite the fact he thought he was paying attention. Avoiding eye contact had been a ploy, anything to keep them from realizing that he actually cared about what they had to say, but he had discredited the conversation, treating Cap's uncharacteristic attitude change as nothing more than him realizing his mistakes too late.

 _Tony,_ wait...

He had heard the silent plea in the air, the desperation in Cap's voice, but again it was something he had overlooked, despite how unusual it had been. The fury in his chest had blinded him to the real emotion in the plea, and now he felt like a fool for not seeing it.

 _What are you doing to Captain America to make him act like he's had the wind knocked out of him?_

 _I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about._

"Ross," Tony said, breathlessly, "Ross is trying to make super soldiers again."

Natasha looked at Tony, unblinkingly, before slowly nodding. "And you've given him the original Super Soldier," she supplied.

"How did you know about..." Tony trailed again, shaking his head. It was impossible to hide anything from the woman before him, he should have expected she would find out about the entire ordeal. "You know, he kind of landed himself in that position, it wasn't my doing."

The exasperated sigh that Natasha let out grated on Tony as he glared down at his work bench, the entire situation hadn't been his fault, he hadn't sat out to arrest Captain America, it had just happened that way.

"Are you ever going to stop being so self absorbed?"

The shot actually stung, a little, despite the calluses Tony had built around himself. Everything that he had done was for the others, the good of other people, and people still had the nerve to call him self absorbed. For what, because he was mad at Steve like a normal person would be? Why did everyone get to feel except for him, how was that fair?

"I get why you're mad, Tony, but this is bigger than that," Natasha pushed, "they're making super soldiers. Why? And are they using Steve to do it? If they are, who knows what else they might be doing to him."

"I get it, alright? I know," Tony heaved out a sigh, "but what are we supposed to do, Natasha? If we aren't careful, we'll end up in a cell too now, you know that."

"So instead we're going to do nothing, we're just going to leave him there?" The disbelief in her voice made Tony flinch, and he looked away, trying to sort out the emotions rolling around in his chest.

"No," Tony said finally, after a few moments of silence, "but we're going to need to think this through, and plan it out carefully. If what you're saying is true, and there are other people in government involved, I doubt I'll be able to get him out of there the same way I did the others."

"What are you going to do then?"

Letting out a sigh, Tony shook his head and opened his mouth to respond before being interrupted.

"Probably something that's going to wind up with the Avengers in jail, but hey, with the Accords what else is new?" A voice behind him piped up, and Tony jerked around to see Clint standing in the doorway, looking amused.

"How do you idiots even get down here? Did I give you clearance?" He snipped at the archer standing behind him.

"I'm guessing you did, since F.R.I.D.A.Y let me in. Natasha's the one who told me what was going on, though, said she had something to tell all of us and she was starting with you," Clint responded.

"Well, apparently, we're going to spring Captain America."

"What happened to throwing out the person who talked about rescuing Cap, huh? Why didn't you throw her out? Geez, hypocritical, Stark," Clint jested.

"New circumstances coming to light, I'm not that much of a jerk," Tony huffed.

"Is this the era of a newer, kinder Tony Stark?"

"I'll still kick your butt out if you don't shut up," rolling his eyes, Tony bit his lip and rubbed his eyes. "Tell the Avengers to assemble, we've got to come up with a plan."

"Now you're talking!"

* * *

 _Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out._

Repeating the words in his mind helped Steve to focus on breathing long enough to actually accomplish it, despite the pain that shot through his chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Another experiment, or another torture session, depending on who you asked, and Steve found himself all the more worse for the wear afterwards. He could no longer remember how long he had been here, had it been days, weeks, months, or maybe years?

 _Too long_ , that was all Steve knew. Worlds away from the fight that had ended the Avengers, what felt like decades past failing to tell Tony that his parents death hadn't been an accident. All of his mistakes, all of his regrets, despite being so far away they didn't cease to play over and over in his head.

If anything, it was easier now, to see some things with clarity. Because all he was currently able to do was think, get lost in his mind when he was lucid enough to do so, and ignore what was going on outside of it.

It wasn't any better, really, and didn't offer much comfort. All that ran through his mind was how it should have never come to this, there had to of been another way than the downfall of the Avengers, than the civil war between himself and Tony. Because that had truly been what the fight at the airport was, the fight hadn't been between anyone but the two of them, not really.

He had heard his teammates offering banter to the other side, there was no animosity there, and Tony's side was simply following his orders, except perhaps T'Challa, who had a vendetta all his own. Everyone seemed to be doing what they thought was right, his team, going outside the law to save the world once again or at least they had thought so, and Tony's, fighting on Ross's side to uphold the law.

Tony was just doing what he thought was the right thing to do, and how could Steve really fault him for that? That was all Steve had been doing, too.

The more Steve thought about it, if he were honest with himself, he realized it had been a long time coming, the fight between he and Tony.

He wanted to be Tony's friend, he truly had and he genuinely thought he was, but their personalities or perhaps more then that had clashed, and he was beginning to realize that maybe they never had truly been friends at all, even before the disaster that had happened with the Accords.

Maybe it had all been in his head because he wanted his team to function like one, he never took the time to address his relationship with Tony, never truly took the time to get to know him outside of their work and stupid banter while on the clock. In the end, it seemed that this time the villain had truly won, and he was beginning to think that he had been partly to blame.

No one was perfect, and he knew he was no exception to the rule. He could only hope that the Avengers would mend, without him, maybe then everything wouldn't be a total loss.

A sharp pang tore through his head and he bit down on his lip, wondering what it even mattered now. It seemed that this was the end of the line for him, if they didn't kill him soon in the process of trying to break the code to the serum, he had to admit it would be a miracle.

He was tired, starved, in agony, and losing hope fast. He tried to continue to fight, to struggle from one day to the next, but slowly the realization that no one was coming for him and he had no ability to punch his way out of this one was beginning to sink in.

It was a strange feeling, defeat, and something that he hadn't allowed himself to feel or give in to in a very long time. However, maybe this time, it was the right thing to do, if he ceased fighting at least they wouldn't be able to continue to use him to experiment with the serum.

For once, Steve wasn't sure what else to do, and he only wished that things had turned out differently than they had, for everyone involved.

Maybe then the death of Captain America wouldn't seem so utterly pointless as it did to him in the recesses of his own mind.


	7. You've Fallen So Low (Chapter 7)

_Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out._

The rhythmic words weren't comforting anymore, they were necessary, Steve was certain he would subconsciously stop breathing without them.

His eyes were trained on the tube that came down from the IV in his arm, the warm red liquid being drained from his body made him feel even more weak and lethargic than he had before. At first he had tried to tear it out, multiple times, but they always replaced it and in the end it just left him with scars dotting the inside of his arm.

He couldn't even lift his arm to rip it out now if he tried, his almost certainly broken ribs wouldn't allow him to move more than a little, and his weary body seemed to forbid even that. Every time his body healed itself, they damaged him again, not even the serum could keep up with them. He didn't feel like moving anymore, and so he simply laid still, repeating the words in his head to remind him to breathe and watching as the life was drained from him.

It was surprising, he thought, that he was even still alive. He hadn't expected to be, he had expected to go to sleep the night before and simply never wake up again, but it seemed that it wasn't going to be quite that easy, his super soldier body wouldn't allow him to give up, and maybe somewhere in the depths of his mind, his own stubbornness wouldn't allow it.

He wondered if when his body finally did give out if anyone would ever know, if the outside world would be told of his death or if they would pretend as if it didn't happen. He wondered if Sharron Carter would ever find out and wished that he could have spoken to her one last time.

Steve Rogers had a growing list of regrets, and always waiting too late where a relationship was involved was one of them. He hadn't known Sharron very well, but he didn't miss the fact that she went out of her way to help him, and he would have liked to have known her better.

His thoughts then drifted to the Avengers, and he wondered if they would ever know. In a way he hoped they didn't, he could only imagine that Sam might blame himself since he seemed to feel responsible for Steve being brought in to begin with. Natasha might have some amount of guilt, but she had helped them get away from Tony's team, she had little to regret.

Tony, how would he feel about the entire ordeal? Would he think that he had delivered Steve to his death, or did the man hate him enough that he no longer cared?

A stab of mental anguish shot through him at the thought, he had tried to put the situation to the back of his mind. He couldn't afford to dwell on something that would break him, but now in his weakest moments he no longer had the strength to push it away, and the thoughts and emotions that came with it began to hit him hard.

He tried to fight it back, tried to be as strong as people believed he was, as he wanted to be, but it was a futile effort. Sobs began to slowly pour out from him, racking his damaged body and causing farther pain.

Bucky was dead, Steve now forced himself to acknowledge that it was the most likely outcome to the situation.

Tony hated him, loathed him, had bluntly ignored him when he had tried to hint what was going on and he hadn't actually been able to say anything.

If he had, Ross wouldn't have let any of them leave the Raft alive, he was sure of that. Tony was without his Iron Man suit and there would have been no way for him to fight his way free if something had of gone wrong, and Steve knew that it would have. Ross had threatened him before he had brought him out to meet with the inventor.

 _If you say too much, you can guarantee Stark won't get what he's here for. In fact, I'd be willing to bet he won't get out of here at all._

When Steve realized that Tony was there for the team and Ross was actually going to let him take them, he couldn't do anything but hint and hope that the genius realized what he was getting at. However, it was clear that his hatred towards Captain America had thwarted his ability to connect the dots.

Then, there was always the possibility that he had connected the dots and he just hadn't cared. It was also possible that the first day he had brought him here he had heard him call out and had ignored him.

Another sob wracked Steve's body and he bit down on his lip. No, he would give Tony the benefit of the doubt, because he wasn't that type of man. Tony was a good person, he wouldn't leave someone else suffering, no matter his distaste for them.

 _Or maybe you're just awful enough it was justified_ , his own mind taunted.

"Please _stop_ ," he murmured to the air groggily, he couldn't take his own mind attacking him too. " _Please stop,_ I can't deal with this, I can't _do this_ anymore."

Everything hurt, his mind was slowly swimming away from him and he was beginning to lose all since of consciousness that he had, but he welcomed the sensation with open arms if he meant escaping his current situation.

" _Cap_?"

The synthetic sounding voice cut through the fog and Steve struggled to open his eyes, it seemed familiar but for some reason he couldn't place it.

The friendly nickname indicated it was someone that he knew, either that or perhaps it was one of the scientists trying to taunt him again, but why did the voice sound so strange? Was it because of the strange feeling in his head? He felt like he was drowning, was he drowning?

With his vision unfocused and his mind unclear, Steve was unable to recognize whoever had spoken to him before his mind finally slipped away from him and he blacked out.

* * *

Tony Stark stepped forward in his Iron Man suit, staring in disbelief.

They had managed to selectively EMP the electronic security in the facility, and Clint and Natasha had used their training to take out the guards to get them this far. They had had no problems getting in, and Tony was about to celebrate when Clint called back to the team that he had found the room Cap was being held in.

However when he moved to the front and stepped into the room, he found a sight that caused his heart to plummet to his feet and a gasp to catch in his throat, nearly strangling him.

" _Please stop_ , I can't deal with this, I can't _do this_ anymore," an alarming sob tore out from Steve, and Tony froze for a moment.

The heartfelt sentence, had it been directed at Tony? He didn't think so, it seemed like the man was staring blankly into space and talking to no one at all.

" _Cap_?" Tony gasped out, moving over to him instantly.

The super soldier looked awful, to put it very lightly. His face was sunken in and he was ridiculously thin, as if they truly hadn't been feeding him anything more than enough to get by. Sweat dotted his forehead and his hair seemed glued down by it, and his skin was so pale Tony was sure a piece of paper had more color, with the exception of the massive bruises that dotted a big majority of his skin.

The colors ranged, from healing to fairly new, and Tony felt his blood began to boil. Why in the world had they done this, what purpose could it have possibly served?

"Rogers, you with me?" Tony glanced down and noticed the mans eyes were now closed and he bit down hard on his lip. "Steve?" He mumbled, and upon receiving no response he swore loudly, frustration pouring out of him.

"Barton! Get in here!"

Clint moved up behind him, looking down at Steve and narrowing his eyes.

"What did they do to him?"

"I don't know," Tony practically growled, "but we'll find out. Let's get him out of here."

Clint nodded and Tony walked directly to Steve's side, using his repulsers he blasted the buckles to the straps holding Steve down, and he removed the IVs and wires attached to the man. He gently picked him up, carrying him bridal style and offhandedly thinking that Steve should have been awake and lucid enough to be embarrassed about it.

To see the man in such a state left a barbed feeling in his chest, and guilt sprung up to choke him.

He hadn't felt too guilty when Natasha had confronted him about what was likely going on, he felt his actions had been justified despite the fact he might have made a mistake, but now? Looking down on how frail the super soldier looked, Tony wasn't so sure that his actions could be justified.

"Cover me, and let's get out of here," Tony said in a low tone.

Clint agreed, moving along behind the man as the two of them made their way out.

Natasha, who had been standing just outside the door, glanced over at them, and even the naturally neutral looking spy had the decency to allow shock to flood through her eyes.

If Natasha looked shocked, Tony knew that it must be as bad as he believed it was, it wasn't just guilt causing him to magnify the situation. That actually made it that much worse as he worked his way forward, trying to focus on the task at hand and deciding to deal with the situation later.

"Clint, on your left!" Natasha called.

The archer swung around, bow raised, and shot a guard who had been creeping up beside him stealthily. "Looks like they're starting to wake up, we'd better get out of here in a hurry!"

They were met with a few more as they made their way towards the quinjet, Clint and Natasha dispatched most of them easily while Tony focused on guarding Steve.

The fight seemed to be going well until a bullet grazed Clint's arm and he grunted in pain. Tony adjusted Steve, as carefully as he could in a hurry, and blasted the guard across the room aggressively.

"Clint, are you alright?"

"Just a graze, it's fine, go!"

When they made it to the hanger, Sam who had been guarding the quinjet perked up eagerly when they came into his line of sight.

"Did you find-?" His voice trailed off as they got closer.

"Yes, later! Into the jet, we gotta go, now!" Clint insisted. "They know we're here!"

Sam swore and the three of them piled onto the quinjet, Natasha dashed up to the front and sat down in the pilots seat, and like that the team was off.

"I really hope they didn't realize who we were," Clint murmured, pulling the mask he had been using to disguise himself off.

"Hm, an archer, a metal man, an an insanely talented female assassin, no, I'm sure they had no idea," Tony replied sarcastically, "they weren't supposed to see us."

"Oh well?" Clint growled, hissing as he pulled his sleeve up to get a better look at his wound. "Hopefully not enough of them did to actually be sure."

"Hopefully," Tony murmured, looking down at Steve with a frown.

"What did they do?" Sam asked, flabbergasted as he stared at the limp form in Iron Man's arms.

"I don't know," Tony admitted, folding his helmet back and moving to carefully sit the man in a seat so he could strip himself of his armor. "Here, keep him steady, Sam."

Sam stepped over to do so, wincing as he got a better look at the man.

"Did they beat him?"

"I don't know," Tony growled, stepping out of the suit and glancing back as the pieces retreated into a special compartment on the quinjet.

"Why? I thought they were just trying to make super soldiers, were they torturing him too?"

Tony had to bite down on his tongue to keep from snapping at Steve's curious friend. They were fair questions, but not having answers to the same questions that he wondered made him all the more edgy and angry.

"I don't know," Tony spat.

"I'm just asking the air," Sam defended himself, "I don't expect you to have an answer."

Tony threw his hands up and walked towards the back of the quinjet. He knew he was being unreasonable, but dealing with the annoyance and the other emotions that raged through him without lashing out at the cause of the annoyance was impossible for him just now.

He couldn't believe the state they had found the Captain in, it was abhorrent to think that Ross had done this to the man. How unethical can a person be, to completely disregard the fact that Steve was a human and treat him _worse_ than a lab rat? He had known Ross had been desperate, but enough to do this?

Tony knew he himself could be unethical if the ends justified the means, but there was no way he could ever do something like this. It was another image he would never be able to erase from his mind, coming in and finding Rogers looking so weak and wounded.

 _Destroyed_ even, for the brief second that he had been conscious, Tony had saw defeat written over all of his features. The man had given up, he was practically waiting for death.

Like he had been in Tony's recent nightmares.

The bile that rose in his throat caused him to lift a hand to his mouth and swallow aggressively, the thought actually made him physically ill. He should have known that Steve was truly in trouble after the last time, _he should have known._

He should have known better than to leave the original super soldier with someone like Ross after everything he had done to Banner, Tony had heard all the stories. Why did he believe that he could ever trust the man? Though, realistically, he didn't actually trust him, he just never thought that the man would sink so low.

Tony shouldn't have taken Steve's 'betrayal' so heavily, he should have just left the man after he won the fight instead of getting satisfaction out of bringing him in and out of winning.

 _You could have saved me, why didn't you do more?_

Why did it seem that Tony was doomed to become a self-fulling prophesy of destruction, no matter how hard he tried? The harder he tried, the more things seemed to go wrong.

Taking a breath and grabbing a bottle of water, he sat down and poured a bit of it into his hands, splashing his face and trying to get his mind to calm down and relax.

"This wasn't entirely your fault, Stark, you had no way of knowing," he murmured to himself, shaking his head softly.

If only he could make himself to believe that, maybe then he would feel better.


	8. What If We Started Over? (Chapter 8)

The world swirled around him, the sound of water pounded against his ears and his body felt as if it were freezing. Cold seeped all the way into his bones as he struggled, trying to figure out which way was up and which way was down.

Steve thought he was screaming, but no sounds emerged outside of gargling.

He was trapped under the water, struggling to free himself but yet unable to move as ice began to encase him. The water began to solidify faster than he could think and it caused more panic to rise into his system.

What was happening? He was supposed to be dead, not this! This wasn't supposed to happen.

 _"Steve!"_

The voice tore through his panicked addled mind and his eyes shot open, darting around frantically as he gasped for the air he now realized was available for him. Greedily he sucked it in, desperate to forget the feeling of being unable to.

His body still felt the icy grips of the water and he shivered violently, trying to focus on the room around him and ground himself in the present, as slowly he realized that's where he was.

Not in the plane flying towards America with so many armed bombs, not in the fidgid icy waters somewhere in the Arctic, but instead somewhere in the twenty first century.

 _But where am I, actually? Wasn't I... where am..._

It took a moment for his mind to process the thoughts, with his body extremely fatigued and his mind sluggish. His body felt extremely sore but it was the dull ache of healing instead of the sharp pains he had grown accustomed to.

As he came to himself more, he realized the room didn't seem like the lab that had grown so familiar over the past few weeks, or months, however long it had been.

Slowly lifting his head, his eyes fell on a masculine figure standing next to his bed with a hand reached out as if wanting to grab and steady him, but hovering in mid air, clearly unsure if he should.

As Steve raised his eyes they met with a disgruntled and rather horrified looking Tony Stark, and Steve stilled entirely.

"Steve?" Tony questioned cautiously, biting down on his lip as he did so and locking eyes with him. "Rogers?" He repeated with a frown, pointedly changing how he addressed the man as the shocked expression drained off his face and his hand dropped back to his side.

"Tony?" Steve asked, but the weak rasp that came out of his throat hardly sounded like his voice.

"Good grief Rogers," Tony snapped, running a hand through his hair. "I heard you screaming from down the hall and thought someone had broken in and was trying to kill you, what-"

"I was screaming?" Steve murmured softly, cutting the man off before he could ramble on.

"Yes, you were screaming," Tony said firmly, eyeing him.

"How did I get here, where are we?" Steve asked after a moment of silence, his eyes drifting around the room. His body slowly began to relax at the somewhat familiar scenery.

"The Compound," Tony confirmed.

"It's cold," Steve blurted, surprising himself. "I mean," he bit his lip, that hadn't been what he started to say at all.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y," Tony prompted, quirking an eyebrow upward, "raise the temperature for Captain America, will you?"

"Aye, boss."

"That'll take care of that, so you won't turn into a Capsicle," Tony offered a small attempt at a lighthearted grin, but as Steve looked at the man he could see the hard lines edging the corners of it and the lack of light in his eyes as he spoke. He was faking civility, it was a shame that Tony Stark was so good at that.

Not only that, Steve couldn't help but flinch at the words despite the fact he knew the man meant nothing by it. He noticed the grin instantly fade off of Tony's face into frown.

"Cap?" Tony questioned warily, "you doing okay?"

Shaking his head lightly, Steve let a soft breath out. "Why did you come after me?" He mumbled, changing the subject. "I thought you said you were done with me."

Steve knew despite still being somewhat foggy that the words could open the floor for a fight, he was aware that it wasn't the best idea when they were on delicate grounds, but he couldn't help it. He would rather engage in a fight with Tony than to truly open up to him now, or ever.

He was Captain America, what would people say if they knew Captain America had nightmares about being frozen in the Arctic?

Tony drew in a rather sharp breath, and he noticeably stiffened.

"Is that how we're starting this off, then? Right were we left off?"

"To be fair," Steve responded, clinching his teeth slightly, "you're the one who left it that way."

"Wow, Rogers, I never realized you were so petty, is imprisonment enough to turn even America's Golden Boy into a _hardened_ criminal type? Did you get any tattoos while you were there? I'm sure Ross could have called someone in to do that for-"

"I had to deal with enough needles thanks to Ross, none of which I asked for," Steve shot, cutting the inventor off.

Tony trailed, looking at Steve with a distant and rather unusual look on his face. Steve had a hard time placing the emotion at first, but Tony looked away and suddenly it dawned on him.

 _Guilt._

Tony Stark actually felt guilty for what had happened. He felt guilty for actions that weren't even fully in his control, and just like that Steve Rogers felt regret bubble up in his own chest for rubbing salt in a wound he didn't even know existed.

There was little doubt for Steve that Stark was a good man deep down, but guilt wasn't an emotion that he had entirely expected from the genius, not for something that hadn't been in his control. Steve's mind had convinced him that Tony _knew_ what was going on and did nothing to stop it, but that couldn't be farther from the truth.

One look was enough to tell Steve everything; Tony hadn't known, and if he had of, he would have done something sooner. Maybe the man was more complex than Steve had originally thought, and maybe some of the revelations that he had during his time at the Raft were true.

He didn't know Tony Stark at all, not really, not beyond the superficial facade that the man offered everyone, and somewhere under that mask was an even better person than Steve had realized.

"Tony," Steve spoke up softly, "I'm sorry."

"It's a fair statement," Tony commented offhandedly, waving his hand with apparent indiffence. However, from the blank mask Tony pulled over his features, Steve could tell he was hiding how he really felt. "Besides, why would it bother me?"

Steve wanted to press the issue, wanted to argue with the man, but he knew it would be pointless.

Silence filled the room and as Steve studied the man before him, his thoughts drifted as they had become prone to doing recently. Not even two minutes after waking up back home, to his shock, and he was already trying to instigate an argument with one of the people he had desperately wanted to make up with. Maybe it was fear, bitterness, or anger at the situation causing it, but it was no excuse.

He had the opportunity he had wanted, and despite his fatigue he was going to take it.

"Not just that," Steve offered softly, "for everything, Tony."

" _Everything_ ," Tony let off a tiny, bitter sounding laugh as he shook his head. "You know, Cap, I've come to realize I'm not guiltless in this situation."

"Maybe not," Steve said faintly, "but neither am I. There are a lot of things I would have done differently if I had the chance to do it over again, all of it over again."

"All of it?" Tony thinned his lips, looking at Steve with a quizzical expression.

"All of it," Steve repeated, rather distantly. His voice trailed, it didn't seem fair to make this conversation entirely about him.

"Like what?" Tony pushed.

"From the beginning of the Avengers, from waking up in this strange time, yet another place where I didn't fit in. There are some decisions that I don't regret, but there are others that I do."

"Like, what?" Tony said, lowering his tone. "Would you not do this whole Avengers thing if you could do it over?"

The impassive expression on Tony's face would have been deceiving if Steve couldn't hear it in the tone of his voice, the man was upset at the potential revelation.

"No, of course I would do this," Steve said pointedly, "but one decision I regret, is never truly getting to know you."

Shock radiated from the man standing next to him, who froze and went completely silent.

"I assumed so much, I based my opinions on you around my own assumptions, and that isn't fair, it was wrong of me," Steve continued when Tony uncharacteristically remained silent. "I always assumed we were friends because we needed to be, we worked on the same team and sometimes we got along okay, sometimes we even seemed friendly, but I think I was wrong. We always ended up on opposite sides of every argument, I never even tried to understand you because all I saw was someone who was overly reckless. You _are_ overly reckless Tony, don't get me wrong, but there's more to you than that."

Steve wasn't sure if Tony looked hurt or confused, but emotion was definitely playing on the mans face now.

"We never really got pass that first conversation, did we? We were forced to become cordial and work together to save the world, and that's where we stayed, ready to come to blows with each other if we had to. It isn't that I didn't want to be your friend, I did, but I never actually got there."

For a moment if felt as if their roles had been reversed, Steve felt like he was the one rambling, trying desperately to make the man understand and using as many words as he could to do so, because Tony still wasn't saying anything.

He was just standing there, looking at Steve with emotions rolling across his face and his body stiff, and Steve for whatever reason couldn't stop the words rolling out of his mouth.

"You're a good person, Tony, you have the right motives for doing what you do, even if I don't agree with everything that you do. You fought for what you believed was right, and that's all any of us can do, it's all any of us should."

Tony opened his mouth and closed it several times, unable to get words to pass his lips. He frowned, crossing his arms and turning away from Steve, taking in everything the super soldier had spilled out.

"Sir? Priority call from Secretary Ross, there's been a breach at the Raft prison," F.R.I.D.A.Y broke through Tony's thoughts at he blinked lightly, glancing up.

"Ah, yeah, put him through," Tony said slowly, walking over to the phone sitting next to the Captain's bed.

" _Tony, we have a problem_ ," the words came through the speaker on the phone, and Tony didn't miss Steve's flinch at the man's voice.

"Please hold!" He chirped, a smirk dancing across his face, taking no small pleasure in it. He glanced over at Steve and his smirk faded into a thin smile.

"I like to watch the line blink, and he deserves to sit on hold for an eternity," Tony offered slowly, "better than not answering, more satisfying, don't you think?"

He didn't miss the amused smile that danced it's way across Steve's face, causing his own smile to widen slightly and become more genuine.

Silence filled the air again for a moment and Tony allowed an audible sigh to pass his lips as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Does this mean I have to vent all my emotional traumas about you now?" He asked, mildly sarcastic.

"Only if you want to," Steve offered.

Tony shook his head, letting out a huffed breath and shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe I never entirely got over hating you," he admitted. "My dad idolized you, heck, I idolized you as a kid."

" _Did_ you?" Steve quirked an eyebrow upwards.

"Shut up Rogers, hero worship wears off fast when your hero tells you you're nothing but a fake hero in a suit of armor, ruins the illusion that you were perfect, or you know, just hits home that I wasn't," Tony shot, trailing off when he saw the hurt flash across Steve's face.

"Tony, I didn't-"

"No, shut up," Tony sighed, waving his hand, "that was a long time ago, it isn't totally fair to be bitter about it."

"Maybe it is," Steve pushed, "maybe it's something we should have talked about a long time ago instead of pretending like it didn't happen. Maybe there are a lot of things we should have talked about instead of sweeping them under the rug. I was wrong, Tony."

"Yeah?" Tony said, his voice trailing and he sighed, "yeah, well, I was wrong too."

"Can we start over?" The feeble question didn't even sound like Steve Rogers, and Tony was convinced that the stress and anxiety of everything that had happened to the man still hadn't worn off. Tony remembered that feeling, after Afghanistan, though he had swept that under the rug too and it just resulted in nightmares later on.

It seemed like he was good at trying to avoid things that needed to be addressed, much like he wanted to avoid the situation now. He wasn't sure he wanted to try this again, he had been so certain they were friends before but it seemed that he was wrong.

It wasn't for lack of trying on his part, but it felt foolish that he never saw what Steve said until now, and looking back it seemed that maybe Steve was right.

They were both trying, but in the end their preconceived ideas of each other damaged any real friendship that might have grown between them otherwise. They were teammates, they cared about each other deeply and would have been devastated if anything had happened to the other, but comrade was a better word for their relationship.

Did Tony want to truly try to be friends with Captain America? His childhood idol, the man whom his dad had spent so much of his life searching for, and talking about, and comparing to?

"I'll think about it," Tony said dismissively, waving his hand. "Are you alright? Can I go back to the workshop without having to worry about you giving me another heart attack?"

Tony didn't miss the small amount of devistation on Steve's face as he nodded softly, but he turned and walked out of the room, unwilling to relent just yet.

He needed to think about this, to give himself time to process it all and understand how he himself was feeling, especially after everything else that had happened, and his workshop was always the best place for him to do that.

He had a lot of thinking to do.

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

Steve might seem a little OOC in this chapter, I agree with that, but I justify it by saying he went through heck while he was at the Raft, and not even a super soldier is immune to his own mind and tired body.

Also, I want to thank everyone who has reviewed/followed/favored this so far! It's one of the things that has motivated me to keep writing it instead of letting it fall by the wayside as another uncompleted project, knowing that people like the story and are waiting to see it updated, so thank you all so much! =) I appreciate every one of you!


	9. Only Time Will Tell (Chapter 9)

What felt like an eternity had passed since Tony had fled the room, yet as Steve glanced up towards the clock hanging on the wall he realized it had only been a few hours.

He stared at the ceiling, mulling over his conversation with the eccentric inventor. That was all he had been doing since the man had left, unable and unwilling to go back to sleep.

Finally pulling himself from his mind, Steve came to a decision. It was going to be difficult, with his head was still swimming and his body no where near recovered, but he couldn't stand laying around anymore.

He had spent enough time strapped to a table in that laboratory.

He didn't want to think about it, he wouldn't allow his mind to drift back there. Back to what he thought was going to be his demise, and it would have been if he stayed here much longer.

The super soldier groaned as he pushed his traitorous thoughts aside and shifted himself into a sitting position, wincing as his ribs screamed in protest.

The world around him began to spin and nausea swept over him, he tried to swallow the bile that formed in his throat. He knew had nothing in his stomach to eject, so he could only hope his body would realize that as well.

Pulling himself into a standing position proved harder than he had hoped, but he managed to struggle to his feet. Bracing himself against the wall, he blinked a few times as he waited for the room to stop spinning long enough for him to walk.

Steve began moving, breathing out and taking in his surroundings for the first time since he had woken up.

Abruptly he realized he was in Tony Stark's wing of the Compound, and he froze, blinking. Confusion mixing with curiosity stirred in his chest as he looked at the guest room with interest.

Why had Tony brought him here? He could have taken him to his own room, or the infirmary, even, but he had chosen to bring him here.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y?" Steve ventured, curious if the AI would even respond to him at all after everything he had done.

It didn't escape him that F.R.I.D.A.Y had been present for the ordeal with Tony. That she had seen, for lack of a better word, and heard everything that had happened between them.

"Yes, Captain Rogers?"

 _Well, I have something going for me,_ he thought to himself.

"Why did Tony bring me to his wing, why not my own? Or the infirmary?" He questioned with a serious tone, biting the inside of his lip.

"Mr. Stark thought it best to bring you here so he could keep an eye on you," the AI sounded annoyed with him. Yet it didn't surprise him, he had expected it.

"I see," Steve replied, growing softer, "where is he?"

"He is currently in his workshop, and doesn't wish to be disturbed."

Steve heard the unstated _so don't disturb him_ in the AI's voice _._

"Alright," he said, his voice turning into a mutter.

Leaving Tony alone to work out his feelings and giving him space was the best idea. It was possible that the inventor might approach him, and Steve knew he needed longer than a few hours to process the emotions he had displayed before he had fled the room.

Yet something in him wasn't keen on letting the situation lie where it did. If he knew anything about Tony Stark, it was that he would definitely avoid this until it couldn't be avoided any longer.

He would give the genius time, but if the opportunity came, he couldn't resist trying once again to offer the man an olive branch.

"Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y," Steve murmured, forcing his sluggish body to make his own way down the hall way.

At first he watched his feet, carefully trying to avoid tripping over them. It had been forever, it felt like, since he had walked anywhere, since he had been able to move free of any sort of bondage. Ross had been terrified that if he were allowed to move, he would have found a way to free himself, so he had kept him under lock and key.

Steve tore his gaze away from his feet and looked up, taking in the sights and sounds of the Compound. The familiar surroundings assaulted him all at once, and his mind was finally hit with the realization that he was _home._

He wasn't at the Raft prison, he wasn't in a lab, he wasn't in Siberia or on some mission, he was finally back home after so many months. He was here and as far as he knew, his team was rousing about somewhere here too.

They were _safe_ , and he was safe, at least for the time being, but that was more than enough.

The revelation caused him to cry in relief, much to his own surprise. His steps faltered and he had to brace himself against a wall for a moment, taking in deep breaths as relieved sobs wracked his body.

Bracing himself did little to help as his knees buckled, giving out beneath him, and he hit the floor.

Steve tried to contain it, tried to push it away, but he found that he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried. It seemed that his body and mind were rebelling against him, there was nothing he could do to stop the stem of tears that streamed down his face.

* * *

Somewhere in the back of his mind Tony knew that it was better to address your problems rather than run from them. Yet in the end it was always easier for him to push them as far out of his mind as possible. It was easier to pretend that nothing had never happened.

It was easier to bury himself in work, alcohol, or both, rather than his own thoughts as he had intended to do.

He started out contemplating the conversation he had with Captain America, to be fair. He had intended to try and work through some of his own feelings, but he didn't.

He instead allowed himself to get distracted in his latest update for his suit. Steve Rogers along with every thought associated with him became irreverent after that.

His workshop was the place where he thought the best, where he worked out things the easiest, but in this situation it was something he didn't want to do. Not now, and maybe not ever.

Looking down at his suit always seemed to cause pride to swell up in his chest, it was an emotion that was hard to avoid, not that the man wanted to avoid it.

Upgrading the casing around the arc reactor to make it more resilient against attacks had never crossed his mind until the battle in Siberia, but now he realized that it was a good idea. If anyone realized how the suit worked it was a vulnerability, and it was obvious now that he thought about it.

"Boss?" F.R.I.D.A.Y's quizzical voice broke through his train of thought and he glanced up, almost annoyed.

"What is it, F.R.I.D.A.Y?"

"Captain Rogers is showing signs of serious distress, sir."

The bitterness rose into his throat again as Steve Rogers came back into his mind by the mention of his name. A small scoff rose into Tony's throat and he shook his head, sitting the wrench he held in his hand aside and crossing his arms.

"What's the problem? Is he having another nightmare?" He was content to leave the man to deal with it on his own if that were the case, it's not as if they were friends.

"No, sir," the AI replied, "he has made his way into the hallway and collapsed, his blood pressure is slightly elevated."

A sigh tore through his lips, but he couldn't help but move out the door and to the aid of his comrade.

Tony made his way down the hall in a hurry, and what he saw caused his heart to still and all the hurt and anger he felt towards the man to melt away from his body.

"Rogers?" The question, followed by a rather surprised sounding swear tore through the air. In an instant the inventor crouched down beside him, and Steve shifted a bit, his body stiffening up.

"Good grief, first I find you screaming bloody murder and now I find you crumpled up sobbing in the hallway? Get it together, soldier."

Tony's voice sounded tense, but it looked as if it was easy for Steve to tell there was no malice behind the words. He was certain his words sounded laced with confusion, but even he could hear the concern in his own voice.

"Come on, old man, let's get you back to your room, huh?"

"No," Steve's voice was course and rough as he shook his head, "no, I'll be fine, give me a moment."

Tony thinned his lips, looking down at the man with a critical expression.

"Are you sure, Cap?"

The nod that Steve forced looked unconvincing, and Tony's lips curled into a frown.

When the AI had alerted him to Steve's episode, he hadn't been expecting this. Tony never imagined that he would find him like this, looking both completely relieved and broken at the same time.

"Lounge?" Tony suggested as he looked at the super soldier, who didn't seem much like a soldier at the moment.

"Alright," Steve choked, struggling to his feet.

Tony reached out and grabbed the man by the shoulder, helping haul him onto his feet and urging him to put some of his weight on him. It was clear that the man was going to have a difficult time walking on his own, and Tony wasn't wrong in his assumption.

The man stumbled every step or two, his body not cooperating with him.

"Rogers, you're aware that even though you're Captain America, Ross used you as a pin cushion, drained your blood like a vampire and only you know what else. The sensible thing to do would be to take it easy, don't you think?" Tony groused.

When Steve didn't answer, Tony had to bite back his annoyance as he looked over at the super soldier. The man seemed distant and tired, a haunted expression flickered over his face before he chased it away and forced himself to the present.

"I'm alright," the man insisted.

"You know, I highly doubt that," Tony shot, shaking his head. "People who're alright, they usually don't break down in a heap of _obviously_ very _manly_ tears in the hallway."

Steve let out a soft chuckle and it was hard for Tony to shake the warm, happy feeling that spread through his chest. It was a nice feeling, making other people laugh at his antics. He preferred it to the typical annoyed response everyone usually offered, though if someone were to mention it he would deny it.

A comfortable air surrounded them for a moment, and an almost comfortable silence settled around them.

"Are you alright?" Steve asked after a moment, "F.R.I.D.A.Y said you were in your workshop and you didn't want to be disturbed, why are you here?"

Of course, it was so much like the man to shatter the peaceful atmosphere around them. It was funny how the warm feeling could melt into a hot, uneasy, and angry feeling, especially when Steve Rogers was involved.

"I'm not so much of a self-centered narcissist that I'm going to ignore you collapsing in the hall, Rogers. No matter what you think."

"Tony," Steve stammered, sounding taken aback, "that isn't what I meant."

"Of course not, you're a _very polite person_ ," he parroted his own words, pushing whatever bitterness he could muster into them.

"You aren't being fair," Steve started, his voice raising a little.

"I'm not being fair, this is about being fair now?" Tony shot. "Funny, you didn't care much about fair when you and Barnes tag teamed on me."

"You're no where near over any of this, are you?" Steve questioned, his tone hardening into a serious one.

"Did you expect me to be?" The low growl that worked its way into his throat surprised even Tony. He thought he was pass this, he thought he could handle being around Steve after everything that had happened.

He was wrong, which was a dilemma, because no matter what he wanted, for the time being at least, he was stuck with the man. Tony couldn't kick him out and it wasn't as if he himself could up and leave. It would be suspicious after everything that had transpired, and he had a feeling that Ross was already suspicious.

A small uncharacteristic shrug was all the got as a response at first from the super soldier. After a moment or two ticked by, Steve's voice cut through the silence again.

"Will you ever be?"

"Now that? That's a question I actually don't have the answer to," Tony murmured.

"He actually won, didn't he?" Steve said, his voice solemn as stared straight ahead, refusing to look towards Tony in the slightest. "At least as far as we're concerned," he finished.

"What?" Tony asked, bewildered.

" _An empire that topples from within, that's dead_ ," Steve echoed the words as well as he could, remembering the moment before everything so thoroughly fell apart. It had been broken before, but the moments after blurred into watching it dissolve into nothing.

Tony glanced at the man as the pair of them walked into the lounge, it did seem that Helmut Zemo had won. The man had gotten exactly what he had wanted, and what was funny was that Tony felt powerless to stop him.

Fighting the emotions that rolled around inside of his chest was hard, given time it was possible it could pass and he could deal with it in a healthy way. He could let Steve Rogers in again, but somehow he was doubtful.

He wasn't exactly known for dealing with things in a healthy way, and he was aware that in the end he usually wound up messing everything up himself.

So maybe the villain had truly won, it looked as if only time would tell.

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

Sorry it's taken a bit longer to get this chapter out than usual! I actually started out with a bit of writers block, and about the time I was forcing myself out of it and wrote half of the chapter, my computer freaked out and the file became corrupt. Everything I had written was permanently gone, but in the end it worked out better! I wound up taking the chapter in a totally different direction than what I had intended, and I much prefer the way it came out!

A little heads up, however, I have some stuff going on in my personal life right now and I'll be taking a trip out of state the beginning of next week. So unless I'm able to finish one more chapter before I head out, the next chapter probably won't be out for at least a week and a half or potentially just a little bit longer. I'll be back at it just as soon as I can!

Also, one more thing! If anyone is ever curious about the status of the next chapter, I update my profile semi-regularly to say where I'm at with it! So feel free to take a look from time to time if you're ever curious. =)

Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!


	10. Don't Forget You're Human (Chapter 10)

"Steve!" Sam greeted as Tony and Steve walked into the lounge where many of the Avengers were gathered. Walking closer, he offered the super soldier a grin and clasped a hand on his shoulder.

"Nice to see you're back with us."

"I'm glad to be back," Steve offered, his voice still soft, allowing a tiny smile to work its way onto his face.

"How are you feeling?" Clint asked with curiosity, studying the man before him, "because no offense, but you still look like crap."

"I'm sure I do," Steve responded, "I feel a little better."

A small scoffing sound arouse from behind him and he glanced back to focus his attention on Tony. Steve noticed the irritated expression on the other man's face, and a frown danced its way across his own.

His frown deepened as Tony took a breath to speak, and a feeling of dread settled in his stomach at what the man might say.

"I found him crying in the hallway," Tony shot, his voice tinged with ice.

" _Tony_ ," Steve breathed in disbelief. He felt heat creeping up his neck as he looked towards the others, noting the awkward tension in the air. Their expressions ranged from curious, to pitying, and Steve felt humiliated.

"What? It's true, Cap, might as well get it out in the open, it never helps to hold it in," Tony replied, rolling his eyes. "I'd know, you know?"

"I am _not_ going to do this in front of the rest of the Avengers," Steve snapped.

"Why not? You had no problem duking it out in front of them before, in fact, you dragged them in, remember?" Tony sneered, a cynical smile quirking onto his face. "The reason they got arrested? _You?_ Ringing a bell?"

Steve could feel the electricity in the air as the rest of the team froze, watching the conversation with a mixture of emotions.

He swallowed, hard, wincing in pain as the lump in his throat didn't seem to want to unlodge itself.

At this moment in time, it would be easy to give into the anger building in his chest. To tear into Tony, his dislike for bullies and being bullied was bubbling to the surface. Steve opened his mouth to retaliate, but as he stared at the man in front of him, he realized he didn't want to.

This cycle would continue for as long as he allowed it. Someone had to be the one to put a stop to it, and after every mistake he had made, Steve Rogers was going to try.

So instead he studied the inventor. To his surprise, Steve found his defensive posture fell as he took a real look at Tony for the first time during a fight.

He was hurting, plain and simple, Steve could see it behind the mask that the man wore. He could see the pain and traces of betrayal swirling in his eyes, disguised with disgust and anger.

It had never occurred to Steve before, that Tony Stark was hurt, and that was why the man lashed out. Eager for someone else to feel the same pain he felt, or unable to cope any other way, he couldn't be sure of the reason.

Steve blinked, understanding finally settling into his chest. If only he had taken a second look before, so much of what happened could have been avoided.

The knowledge of that made him feel a little sick. He swallowed again, choking down the bile that rose to his throat this time, and instead offered a weak smile.

"Tony's right, I _was_ crying in the hallway."

If Steve thought that the room was filled with an awkward silence before, he wasn't prepared for the silence that fell after the words left his mouth.

Tony stared at him, gob smacked, his angry mask fell and he looked bewildered and taken aback.

"Been there, done that," Sam responded, breaking the silence with a sympathetic and understanding tone.

"If you haven't, I'm pretty sure you're not human," Clint agreed, "it comes with the territory, you know?"

Steve found he was more grateful for the two men than he had been in a while. It was funny, he thought, how trauma could change his own perspective on the world. Even after everything he had been through before, this situation had changed him once again.

Though he didn't miss the look of irritation and anger that flitted back onto Tony's face after the men spoke. He wasn't sure what they had said to annoy the man, but he was eager to change the subject.

"So, has anything worthwhile happened while I've been gone?" Steve questioned, trying to lighten the mood and steer the conversation into more neutral territories. He gazed past the group to the television, interest dancing across his face at the sight of the news.

"Oh, nothing special," Sam commented.

The headline caught Steve's eye, and so walked closer to get a better look. He froze in front of the screen and his heart seemed to stop in his chest.

 _Another Super Soldier Attacks New York._

"What?" he breathed, staring gobsmacked at the television.

"Yeah, that's a thing that's going on," Scott Lang remarked from the couch, glancing over his shoulder. "Seems kind of weird."

"They..." Steve trailed for a minute, clearing his throat. "They haven't called the Avengers out? How long has this been going on?"

"Well, apparently longer than they've been telling people about it," Scott answered, shrugging. "They started airing it on the news a few days ago, Spider lady dropped by to tell everyone about it."

"Spider la...?"

"Natasha," Clint clarified, rolling his eyes. "Supposedly, it's easier than remembering our actual names."

"It is what it is, Arrow guy."

"Shut up, Lang," Clint groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Tony's the one with the stupid nicknames, I can't handle another one."

"Oh," Steve replied, brow furrowing as a hum formed in his throat. He looked back at the screen, taking in the details. "They've been keeping it a secret?"

"Yeah, seems like it," Sam confirmed, nodding. "We heard about it a little while after Natasha told Tony, it hadn't really been circulating much before that."

Staring at the screen, Steve let his eyes drift across the text scrolling across the bottom of the screen. Hundreds dead, no reasoning, it was as if the soldiers were insane and no one was able to stop them.

The public was calling for the Avengers, but there was no answer about why they had not yet been called.

"Why haven't they contacted you?" Steve glanced.

" _Really_ , Rogers?" Tony huffed. "Simple, it would have been too easy for us to figure out someone in the government was behind it, someone who had the original super soldier in custody. You know, namely someone like Secretary Thaddeus Ross?"

"Of course," Steve replied, his voice sounding solemn. "His expirements, then, but why has he released them on the public?"

"We don't know that," Tony responded, shaking his head, "we were kind of caught up with busting you out, rather than getting the details behind... this." He finished, waving his hand dramatically at the television.

"They were able to do this because of me," Steve reasoned, guilt spreading across his features as he bowed his head. "Innocent people are dying because-"

"Get _over_ yourself, Rogers," Tony cut him off, growling through his teeth and taking a step forward. "Don't even play that card."

"What ' _card_ ' am I playing now? It's an accurate assessment," Steve responded with uncertainty.

"It's not as if you actually had anything to do with this," the exasperation in Tony's voice grated on Steve.

"I had about as much to do with this as Bucky did with everything. They used _him_ , they used _me._ " His voice was quiet, so quiet he wasn't sure if anyone would hear him.

Yet Tony heard, and hot rage flared to life in his features as he stared at the back of the super soldier in front of him.

"Excuse me?"

The same emotion that was poured into the words _did you know_ before their fight in Siberia was present now. Steve's blood froze at the thought, but he squared his shoulders, determination sinking onto his features as he turned around to face the man.

"I thought you didn't want to do this in front of the Avengers, Rogers!" The bite in Tony's tone was enough to make Steve want to take a step back, but he held firm.

"I don't," he confirmed, keeping his voice calm, "I _really_ don't."

"Then why," Tony swore angrily, "would you say that?"

"It's true," Steve replied, steeling himself for whatever was about to come next. He couldn't be certain what it was, but he knew it was unlikely that it was going to be good.

"You know good and well it's not the same thing!" Tony yelled.

Letting a sigh escape his lips, Steve shook his head, his gaze leveling on Tony as he did so.

"Then explain to me how it isn't," Steve demanded.

"He murdered people!"

"It wasn't him, he was being controlled by Hydra, Tony, why is that hard for you to understand?" Heat rose into Steve's chest, but he refused to yield to it, choking it down. This was not going to become another Siberia, Steve couldn't allow that.

But emotions rose in his chest, all the grief and anger burst forward at once, leaving Steve trying to contain a river in a bucket. There were two ways he could respond, and there were two ways he might respond. Though he could choose both, it was more likely for him to stumble one way or the other.

He could fight, become angry, scream, and yell; or he could, for the first time in years or maybe ever, allow himself to be vulnerable.

The last option scared him, but so did the former, both had their pros and cons.

"It was his own hands!"

"It was my blood they used!"

" _Give me a break_!"

Tony's words echoing their argument over Wanda struck Steve, and pain blossomed in his chest. His worn body made the decision for him, and his emotions bubbled up with his next words.

"You don't even know him, Tony! You... _didn't_ even know him," Steve choked out the correction, his breath hitching in his throat as a sob escaped him. "You didn't even give him a chance."

"Steve, take it easy," Sam's voice broke through the fog of his mind as the man stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Breathe," he prompted with a kind tone.

Steve pulled in ragged breaths, bringing a hand up to his face as another sob slipped out of him without his permission. He shook his head, mumbling gruff apologies.

"Hey, man, it's alright, you've been through a lot, keep breathin'."

Tony stared on, watching Steve with a distant expression on his face before crossing his arms and turning away. An icy mask rolled back over his face and emotions, and he rolled his eyes.

"You got messed up, didn't you, Rogers?" The comment was cold, and it was obvious that even Tony was aware that it was, but it didn't stop the man from saying it.

 _Shell shock._

The words flashed through Steve's mind, and he absently remembered that it was called PTSD now. He never thought he would experience it after the serum, but it appeared that the serum didn't protect his mind.

Steve's head lifted and he stared at Tony dead on, pain ran through his body in more ways than one as he turned away, his knees feeling weak.

"I think I just want to go lay back down," he murmured to Sam, glancing over at him.

"Wait," Tony's voice tore through the air, some of the ice melted away from his tone, "wait, Rogers."

It was hard to turn and face the man, so instead he didn't turn around. Steve paused, his chest heaving slightly as he tried to maintain a straight posture. He couldn't blame Tony, he had the right to be mad, he reminded himself, but that didn't mean that the barbs the man continued to throw at him hurt any less.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up," Steve tried, refusing to fight the man and hoping to placate him.

Tony sighed, he looked as if he wanted to speak, but an uncertain look danced across his face.

"Look, maybe I..." his voice faded, "you know, whatever, it isn't your fault. None of it, not the soldiers, not this stupid disagreement, and as far as Barnes," another pause, "well, we'll have to agree to disagree."

Steve forced a nod as he continued out the door, his body stiff, leaving the others to stare after him.

"Well, you really messed that up," Scott commented, glaring over at Tony with annoyance on his face. "That wasn't cool, Stark."

Tony bit back a remark, shaking his head at the man on the couch.

"For once, I have to agree with Lang," Clint remarked, rolling his eyes. "I don't really get what your beef is, but you need to fix it, not... do that." He continued, pointing towards the door. "That's going to get real old, real quick, and in case you didn't notice, the guy isn't anywhere near recovered. Give him a break, huh?"

"You have no idea about anything, Barton," Tony grumbled.

"Yeah look, I get that you're hurt, I get that, but don't you think that was a little too far? That you're being a little too hard on him? Especially with how badly he took it?" Clint asked, fixing his gaze on the inventor. "You could have dropped it, instead of arguing with him."

"You'd know a thing or two about emotional trauma, wouldn't you? Doesn't seem like a good idea to be pushing him around while he's recovering," Scott added.

"If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it, Lang," Tony shot, crossing his arms.

Scott shrugged as he turned back to the television and began flipping through the channels, content to escape the drama of the situation.

"I'm just saying, Tony," Clint continued, choosing his words with care, "maybe you should give him a chance? It didn't seem like he wanted to fight you, he just said the wrong thing and set you off like an atomic bomb."

"Well he's good at that then," Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair before throwing them up in defeat. "I'm going to head down to the workshop, I have things I need to get done."

"Hey," Clint tried, holding a cup of coffee out to the man, "don't overwork yourself."

Strangely touched, Tony took the cup from the archer and gave him a nod before walking out of the room, leaving the rest of the Avengers to their own devices. And for them, it was impossible not to discuss exactly how far their two leaders had fallen.

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

Well, hello again! I am officially back from my trip and happy to be back working on this as life permits. ;D

Once again this chapter spun into dramatic fighting before I knew what happened, originally that wasn't what I had planned, at least not between Steve and Tony.

Honestly, just when I think things are going to get lighter and maybe they might start making some ground, either Tony or Steve says or does something that lights the other one up, and well, here we are. They have such conflicting personalities, watching this develop is just as fun for me as it is for you, haha. (I see why they have a hard time getting along in the movies now, honestly.)

However, the story is far from over! So stay tuned! Thanks everyone!


	11. I Can't Fix Him (Chapter 11)

Tony spent as much of the following week in his workshop as he could. When he wasn't there, he was busying himself doing other things, anything he could to avoid another confrontation with good old Captain America.

It appeared the easiest way to do that was to avoid him all together.

Thankfully Steve had removed himself from his quarters and returned to his own. Tony hadn't had to deal with that, he didn't even need to ask. He hadn't seen the man since their last fight, and F.R.I.D.A.Y had offered no updates so he could only assume that the man wasn't dead yet.

He tried not to put too much thought into it, life since the Accords had been stressful, to say the least. The last thing Tony wanted or needed to be doing was dwelling on how Steve Rogers was. He was here, he was safe, and that was enough.

"Hey, Tony, how's it going?" The voice caught Tony off guard and he jolted a bit, whipping around to see the man leaning in the doorway.

For some reason, Clint Barton had become unusually clingy over the past few weeks, it was rare a day went by when the man didn't check on him. It was endearing, but it still startled him when the spy appeared from no where.

"Geez, super spy, you're going to give me a heart attack one day," Tony groused at the man.

"You have a heart?" The archer teased, "I thought you told me you didn't."

"Ah, right," Tony conceded, rolling his eyes, "that's true. What are you doing down here this time, Legolas?"

"I'm not going to lie, you're not going to like it," Clint confessed, his voice laced with hesitance. "In fact, you might threaten to throw me off the compound again."

Tony's stomach knotted around itself and he drew a sigh out from his lips, rubbing his temples. He already knew what was coming before the man said it.

"This is about Cap, right?" He groaned, a knowing expression crossing his face as he looked over at the man.

Clint shifted, an usual expression dancing across his face as he looked at Tony with uncertainty. "Might be," he agreed, shrugging his shoulders absently.

"Look Clint," Tony started, wary, "I've had enough of him. I brought him home, he's here, what more do you want me to do?"

"You don't understand," Clint blurted, his brow creasing as he looked up at Tony, concern clear on his features. "He's here, you're right, sort of. In a way, he almost... isn't here."

Confusion crossed Tony's face as he studied Clint, tilting his head to the side as he stepped away from his work bench to offer the man his full attention.

"What do you mean he's here but he isn't here?"

"He's distant, more distant than I've ever seen him," Clint emphasized. "He's always been one of the last people to tell you how he was actually feeling, but this is different, it's worse."

"How is it worse?" Tony questioned, his tone serious.

"Well, he's not saying much of anything at all, to anyone. He never told us exactly what happened. He won't train with us, doesn't talk to us, nothing and it's disconcerting. He isn't even eating like he should, he hasn't gained back much weight since being home, and it's been a few weeks. I mean of course he's not going to be back to normal, but he should be getting better by now, don't you think?"

"Why are you telling me?" Tony asked, frowning and shaking his head. "Capsicle and I aren't exactly on the best of terms right now, what am I supposed to do?"

"Tony," Clint trailed for a second, sighing, "look, I think that may be something that's bothering him. It almost seems like he's grieving, and everyone thinks that it has something to do with you."

Tony made a snorting sound, a dry and sarcastic laugh catching in his throat. "Believe me, Katniss, it has nothing to do with me. At least, it doesn't have to do with me directly."

"Really?" Clint said, eyeing him with a critical expression, "then you know something, what do you know?"

"Well if he's grieving, I know why, and it isn't over the loss of our friendship. Believe me, it wasn't much of a loss to him, especially since it never existed to begin with. He said so himself," Tony scowled.

A bewildered expression crossed Clint's face and he crossed his arms. "I don't understand, what are you talking about?"

"It's a long grueling story, I don't feel like hashing out the gory details," Tony insisted, "at any rate, it isn't because our friendship is dead."

"Then what is it?" Clint asked, narrowing his eyes at the man.

"Look, there isn't anything I can do about Cap, Clint," Tony shrugged, turning his back on the man and letting out a silent sigh.

Clint stepped forward, his movement swift, as he reached out and grabbed Tony's shoulder in a firm but gentle grip.

"Tony, please? Can you at least try to talk to him? The rest of us have, you're the only one who hasn't and maybe you're the only one who would do any good."

"Can't see how I would," Tony remarked, stopping in his tracks and glancing over his shoulder at the archer. "It'll probably just end with us coming to blows, again, and that isn't good for anyone."

"Well don't let it," Clint stated, "exercise some patience for once! And if he says something that lights your fuse, don't stick around to blow up. No one else knows what to do, Tony, you can at least try, can't you?"

A deep sigh escaped Tony's lips as he rubbed his forehead gingerly, wishing he could massage the forming headache away. Worry danced around in his chest as his heart went to war with his mind, a war that usually his head won with ease.

Yet this time his head was having a difficult time winning out over his heart. The silent nagging feeling in the back of his mind telling him that in reality this was all his fault refused to be silent. If Rogers was grieving over Bucky, well, he was to blame for that, wasn't he?

His mind screamed at him, it poured accusations on him, and he winced as the thoughts danced through his head. He was to blame for allowing Ross to experiment on Rogers for as long as he did. He was to blame for burning bridges every time that the man tried to build them. He was responsible for allowing all of this to go this far.

"Fine," he responded after a moment, nodding his head. "I'll try my best, but I don't know what good it will do."

"Thank you."

* * *

The sound of his punches landing on the bag reverberated around the gym. Steve's thoughts spun around and combined with the sound, creating a roaring in his ears.

Thoughts flashed through his mind at a thousand miles per hour as he vented his frustrations the only way that he knew how. He vaguely realized with amusement, that this was almost exactly how Fury had found him when he had been coming to him with the Avengers Initiative.

Everything was different now, so much had transpired since then and he felt all the worse for it, not better. He never imagined things could get worse than losing Bucky the first time, and then that horror melted into being frozen in ice for seventy years.

It was hard to top that, but somehow it seemed his life had done it. It had offered him his best friend back and then cruelly ripped him away, as if it had never happened at all. Any semblance of the life that he had been building in this new world had been torn from him as well. It left him behind trying to figure out what to do with all the shattered pieces.

With some pieces missing and others crushed beyond repair, life had left pieces that he no longer had the energy to try and put back together. Though at first he had tried, albeit halfheartedly.

He tried to rejoin the others, and despite the fact they had welcomed him with open arms, he found it difficult to do. He didn't want to burden them, and he knew they could tell that he wasn't himself. He could see the worry the others had for him on a daily basis, and it caused him to feel the need to isolate himself more, if only to spare them the concern.

They still tried, and he felt terrible for shutting them out, but it was difficult to see their pitying expressions every time they looked at him.

So the easiest thing to do was to start avoiding them all together, and that was much harder than it seemed. They sought him out, and they tried to lure him out of the shell he'd created around himself.

Who knew what they would try next to get him 'back to normal'?

"Hey soldier."

Startled, Steve hit the bag harder than he intended. His solid punch caused the chains that held the punching bag up to creak, though the bag remained firmly attached.

Steve looked over to see Tony, looking stiff and as jarred as he was, startled by the sound the punch had made.

"Geez, do I need to leave?" Tony questioned, looking at Steve.

"Oh, no, sorry, I..." Steve stammered, biting the inside of his lip, "you surprised me, that's all, I didn't hear you come in."

"Right," Tony responded, "I see the reinforcements I installed on that punching bag work well."

"They're a lot better than what I'm used to," Steve confessed, "they don't last very long outside of the Compound."

"Designed with you in mind, Cap," Tony smirked.

"Thank you," Steve responded, rubbing his neck a bit and shifting, feeling awkward. Uncertainty spread across his features.

"So, you still look like you've been hit by a truck and half starved to death, are you not coming down for food? Do you need me to send some stuff to your wing?" Tony grilled, eyeing the man. "Everyone is always getting on to me about eating regularly, looks like they need to be getting on to you."

"No, I'm fine," Steve said, keeping his tone even. So the others had sent him, he had suspected as much.

Tony looked at him with a dull, unbelieving expression, and rolled his eyes. "Rogers, you're anything but fine, don't try to play me."

"I'm not trying to play you," Steve said, his tone sounding rather distant.

Freezing, Tony looked at the man, frowning as he withdrew into himself. Steve felt more guilt rise in his chest at the sight of the man in front of him. If he were bad enough even Tony was upset with him, it was possible he was worse off than he thought.

"Cap, what's going on?" Tony asked, his tone genuine. It looked as if he were trying his best to maintain a cool and casual composure. "You look like death. You're not talking to the others, you're not even throwing yourself at my feet to apologize anymore. Seems out of character, don't you think?" Tony's smirk wasn't lost on Steve, but he chose to ignore it.

"I just..." Steve trailed, rolling his shoulders back and trying to release some of the tension that had built up there, "I don't want to talk about it, Tony."

"Well, maybe you should," Tony insisted, looking at the man dead on, a frown working its way across his face.

"Maybe I should," Steve admitted, nodding his head, "but I don't want to."

"Oh my gosh, you are so infuriating," Tony sighed dramatically, rubbing his forehead.

"To be fair, so are you, more so than me," Steve almost thought he could see a hint of a familiar smile tugging at the corner of Tony's lips. Either from the familiar banter, or the idea that he was infuriating as well, Steve couldn't tell.

"Well, not this time, I'm not, Cap," Tony pushed, looking at the man with a critical eye. "Come on, out with it, what's going on with you? Is it about Bucky?"

Steve's blood turned to ice at the mention of the name, and his body went stiff and ridged. "Tony," he breathed, shaking his head.

"What? You have to get it out in the open sometime, you can't bury it forever," Tony shrugged, rolling his eyes.

It was almost unbelievable, how callously Tony treated the situation when he had been the one to fire the blast. It seemed as if the man didn't have any regrets at all about the situation, and maybe the truth was he didn't.

"I just-" before Steve could continue the sound of F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice broke through.

"Boss, you have another call from Secretary Ross, it sounds very urgent," the AI said.

"How urgent is urgent, F.R.I.D.A.Y?" Tony groaned, glancing towards the ceiling.

"It's about the super soldier attacks," F.R.I.D.A.Y responded.

"... tell him I'll be right there," Tony stated, looking back over at Steve and crossing his arms. "It looks like you're off the hook for now, but we're not done with this conversation, Cap, got it?"

"Of course we're not," Steve said, his tone dry.

The man turned and left the room, likely before he even heard the words that came out of the soldier's mouth. Leaving Steve feeling disappointed, but totally unsurprised.

After all, what more could he expect from the man who now hated him?

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

I am so sorry for the long distance between last update and this one, I've been pretty tired lately so every time I try to write I kind of meh out of it and choose rest instead. So updates may just be farther apart, but never fear! They shall continue to come. ;P

This chapter didn't necessarily come out how I wanted, it's more of a filler chapter than anything else, but I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway!


	12. Shattered And Broken (Chapter 12)

**Spoiler Alert:**

 _If you haven't seen Infinity War yet and don't want any spoilers, you should know there are definitely rather major spoilers ahead!_

* * *

"Yes, Mr. Secretary, what can I do for _you_?" Tony said into the receiver. Sarcasm danced in his tone as he plastered a fake smile on his face upon answering the phone, making his tone sound more jovial than he felt.

"I don't have time for your attitude, Stark," Ross shot, causing a smirk to deepen onto Tony's face.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware I had to adapt my attitude to your time table. You called _me_ , what do you need?" Tony asked bluntly.

The long sigh only amused Tony more, and he pulled the receiver away from his ear for a moment. An annoyance at the man burrowed under his skin, and rage burned in his stomach at the man's voice. Any chance to irritate the man, Tony was going to run with it.

He lived to irritate people anyway, but there was something more to this after everything the man had done. Was it because he had lied to him, or was it because of what he had done to Captain America? It was hard for Tony to say, exactly, but if he were going to wager, he'd have to admit it was likely because of what he had done to Steve.

Not that he would admit that to anyone, especially Mr. Star Spangled Man with a plan himself.

"I am sure you've heard about the situation going on in all the major cities," Ross started, his voice cautious.

"Of course, the issue everyone is going ' _gee, why aren't they calling in the Avengers?_ ' about, right? Really, we've been wondering the same thing!" Tony retorted, a scathing tone scratching the surface.

"Yes, well, we have our reasons," Ross replied with heat. "However, it might be necessary to call you in. Also, something you might want to know, Steve Rogers somehow escaped our facility."

Tony paused for a moment, taking the time to work up the appropriate amount of surprise in his tone. " _What?_ " He responded after a moment, "how in the world did he escape?"

"We're still trying to figure that out, as of right now the circumstances are mysterious," Ross said dryly. "It seems someone might have broken him out, you have no idea who those people might have been, do you?"

"Why would I know? You know my team are all on the straight and narrow," Tony pushed an offended pitch into his voice.

"Half of them used to be on Steve Rogers side."

"Used to be," Tony emphasized. "What are you doing to find him?"

"Yes, well," Ross moved on, never releasing his obvious skepticism, "we're searching for Rogers now. We're not requiring your help for that, not after the terrible job you did before. It's too personal for you. But your team may well be needed to bring these soldiers in, they're more than anyone else can handle."

" _Clearly._ "

"We'll let you know the details when we can," there was an unmistakable growl in the mans tone, and Tony smirked again. "Goodbye, Mr. Stark." It seemed as if the man was so irritated, he was willing to cut the conversation short.

Before Tony could respond the call disconnected, and left him even more amused that the man was as angry as he was. He had every reason to be, it was obvious his experiments were the ones tearing up the town. And now on top of that, his golden goose had disappeared.

Tony couldn't be happier about ripping that power out of the mans clutches, Steve or no Steve, the man didn't deserve that kind of power. Now if only he could figure out what to do about Captain America, the day might actually go better.

He walked out of the room with a slow pace, turning his thoughts back to the Captain and dreading the idea of going back to actually talk to him.

He had never imagined a day when the man would shut down as he had, he could see why the team were worried about the man who was typically hard as steel. But even steel could break, Tony knew that, and Steve wasn't unbreakable as difficult as it was to believe. Captain America, Steve Rogers, _had_ broken.

How was Tony supposed to fix him when he had a hand in breaking him to begin with? Why would the man want his help when he rejected everyone else? The only answer he could come up with was his knowledge of the events that had broken him to begin with.

It was still not in him to want to help the man. Tony was hurt too, and it was difficult to forgive what the man who had never actually been his friend had done. He still felt bitter, hurt, angry, and perhaps a little broken himself.

Then again, he had always been broken, for so many years he had been. It was hard to remember a time where he hadn't, and maybe in reality he _always_ had been.

Taking a breath, he sat down against the wall in the hallway, pushing his back against it with his head in his hands as he sucked deep breaths into his lungs. Stress building in his chest as he thought of this new burden of fixing an unbreakable super hero on top of fixing everything else. Fixing his other friendships, fixing Ross's problems, failing constantly to fix himself.

Tony wasn't sure he could handle the extra burden that Captain America offered when he was a step away from being shattered himself. But then, Tony was a fixer, what else was he going to do but try?

* * *

 _"I don't feel so good."_

 _Terror shot through Tony Stark's heart as he heard the words erupt from the kid after watching everyone else vanish around them._

 _"You're alright," he said, and then the boy collapsed into him and hung on with all his might. The teenager clung to him like a helpless child and Tony found he didn't believe his own words. He knew what was happening and so did Peter._

 _"I don't wanna go. Mr Stark, please, I don't wanna go!" The boy begged. Tony's heart shattered, his mind reeled and his body ached, he wanted to stop it, he needed to stop it. But he couldn't stop it, there was nothing he could do as he clutched the boy and lowered him gently to the ground._

 _The kid was dying. Peter Parker was fading away in his arms and he couldn't stop it. Helplessness danced in his chest as he stared down at the hero he felt partly responsible for creating. If it weren't for him, the kid wouldn't be here at all. Maybe he would have been okay if he had been at home, maybe..._

 _"I'm sorry," the choked words came and before Tony knew it all that was left was dust flowing through his hands as he grasped the air. His body slumped forward, loss and agony ripping through his chest in a way he wasn't sure he had ever felt before._

 _Peter was only a child, and he was gone. Everyone was gone and here he was, trapped on the decimated planet of the Titans alone._

 _Tony had no way of knowing who was left on earth. All he knew was that despite what Strange had said, they had lost and it was over. His worst nightmare had come true, as he had always known that it would._

 _"Tony?" A voice erupted through the air of the planet and Tony's head jerked to the side, searching desperately for the owner. It sounded vaguely familiar, it almost sounded like..._

"Tony!" The voice tore through his mind, jarring him completely awake.

Tony shot up, away from the wall, gasping for air and throwing his arms out, subconsciously waiting for his armor. He froze when he realized he had fallen asleep pushed against the hallway wall, stress and exhaustion getting the better of him.

What a nightmare _that_ had been.

Cranking his neck he stared at the super soldier looming above him, looking down at him with hesitance.

"Are you okay?" Concern was clear on his face as he bit the inside of his lip, looking down at the scientist carefully.

"I... yeah, I'm fine, Cap," Tony muttered, trying to get his bearings back as he stood to his feet in the real word. A nagging voice in the back of his head told him he needed to call the kid and be certain that all was well with him. The vision of him devolving in his hands dancing across his memory and causing him to shudder.

"Did you have a nightmare?" The hesitation in Cap's voice gave Tony pause as he looked at the man. He almost seemed afraid to engage Tony on a sensitive matter, and after everything he had a reason to be a little leery, how could Tony blame him?

"Yeah, it was pretty intense," he admitted, trying to school his features and keep any irritation that might have been bubbling to the surface out of his tone completely.

"What happened?"

"End of the world type stuff, you know how it is," Tony groaned, shaking his head.

"Yeah," Steve agreed, nodding his head.

"How long have I been out? Feels like an eternity," he mentioned, stretching the muscles in his back out. A sore, dull ache ran down his back and he grimaced, trying to rub the pain away.

"I'm not really sure, it's been a few hours since I saw you last."

"What time is it?" Tony asked, glancing down at his own watch and nodding his head. "Geez, it actually has been a while, no wonder my back is killing me."

"Your body probably gave in to exhaustion," Steve said, sounding a bit unsure.

"What, the same way yours is going to give in to _starvation?_ " Tony shot, looking up at the man with criticism and crossing his arms, remembering their prior conversation. The dream bled away from his memory as he focused on the task at hand. Though he determined with himself that he would be calling young Peter Parker as soon as Captain America was out of earshot.

Steve looked as if he were caught off guard and he shrugged, glancing downward at his own form. "I'm okay," he said.

"Cap, we talked about that already, you are not _okay_ ," he said, trying to keep an annoyed growl out of his voice.

"What did Secretary Ross want?"

"Don't change the subject!" Tony raised his voice dripping with heat, irritated at the blatant topic shift.

"It must have been important, wasn't it?" Steve shifted, looking down at the floor and studying it.

"Look at me, Rogers," Tony demanded, standing firm and glaring at the man in front of him, willing him to look.

Slowly Steve lifted his head, defeat written on his features as he locked eyes with the man in front of him and bit back a sigh. He pulled his shoulders back, bracing himself, and already Tony could see that the man looked ready for war. War with him, _again_. It was clear he believed Tony was going to tear into him, and all at once Tony realized he was going to have to be more careful and tactful with the man who had been a soldier. He was used to Tony lashing out and attacking him. It had become typical for him to do so no matter the circumstances, even before their falling out.

No wonder it seemed like they never got anywhere, they honestly never had. It was a vicious cycle between them, one that Steve now all but refused to take part in, that must be why the man had been reluctant to talk to him at all.

"I'm not going to tear into you," Tony defended, looking at him dead in the face. "I want to help honestly, I want to help you, Cap. Can you let me help instead of running me in this same circle you're running everyone else in? You want to start over, don't you?"

Guilt flashed across the super soldiers face and Tony knew his rather manipulative words were hitting their mark as he intended.

"I do want to start over," Steve responded, chewing on his bottom lip. "I don't know what to say, Tony."

Tony let out a long, drawn out sigh, running a hand over his face as he contemplated. "Yeah, I guess I understand that."

Silence extended between the two. Steve shifted awkwardly, glancing over his shoulder and looking as if he wished to be anywhere but where he currently was. Finally the man let out a breath, allowing his shoulders to slump and his lips to thin into a line.

"I'm tired," he supplied, after several moments of silence.

Now that was a feeling Tony could relate to, he knew a thing or two about being tired and he could read between the lines of what Steve meant. He didn't mean he was physically tired, though it appeared he was that as well. He was emotionally and mentally tired, he was drained, he had little to nothing left to give. Tony knew how that felt better than anyone.

"Yeah? Care to expound, Capsicle?" The nickname slipped out before Tony had the time to put much thought into it, but he didn't miss the small flinch that danced across the super soldiers features.

"Are you ever going to call me by my name again?" Came the soft question after a few moments.

"What, Rogers?" Tony shot, giving the man a dry look.

Steve sighed, and after a moment he nodded firmly as he began to trek back down the hallway, leaving the genius a bit surprised and staring after him.

"Where are you going, what makes you think this conversation is over?" Tony remarked, yelling after the man.

"It's over," Steve said, his tone dismal and a sad sounding acceptance etching into his voice. "I'm coming to accept that it's over."

It wasn't hard to hear the double meaning behind his words, and Tony knew he had said the wrong thing. He had made the entire situation worse, again.

But something held him, rooted in place as he watched the super soldiers back as the defeated man slowly trudged down the hallway. Whether it was pride, bitterness, a combination of all of them, he didn't know, but he couldn't bring himself to follow him.

He did know what the man was going through, truly he did, and he felt for him. The entire situation was growing as complicated as the emotions wrenching in his chest. Emotions that should be on opposite sides of the spectrum danced together and made him feel sick.

Anger, pity, bitterness, a feeling that he should be able to help the man that was obviously shattering before their eyes. But a desire to do anything but help the man who had hurt him so badly. He didn't know what it was going to take to win the war that raged in his mind, but he knew in order to fix this he was going to have to fight his own demons first, starting with the easiest solution to the problem.

Finding out if the Winter Soldier was actually dead.

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

I'm not gonna lie this chapter was sort of my own therapy after Infinity War. I loved the movie it, was fantastic but it was terrible at the same time and SHEESH it was rough, haha! Especially the scene with Spiderman! Can't wait for Avengers 4, I need answers! But until then, I'll vent my frustrations via fanfiction, the movie was a good motivator for this chapter. =)


	13. What Were You Thinking? (Chapter 13)

Finding the Winter Soldier was proving to be more time consuming than he had expected. Tony was beginning to believe that the man wasn't dead after all.

He had sent as many drones out as he could, but try as he might he was unable to find a body in Siberia anywhere near the base. Aside from the super soldiers that Zemo had killed. Certainly none matching the DNA of one James Buchanan Barnes, which was a bit of a puzzle.

How could the man have been well enough to slip out of there on his own? Tony wasn't sure, but he was almost positive that Zemo wouldn't have taken him. Whatever purpose that he had for him was fulfilled the minute he showed Tony the tape of his parents murder.

Leaning forward, Tony rubbed his eyes. As of late his nightmares had been growing worse, so he slept less than usual. He could tell everyone was beginning to notice and become concerned. Even people that were still on Rogers side seemed worried about him.

His nightmares varied from night to night. Some nights he would dream about the kid, then he would lay awake for hours regretting his decision to enlist Spider-Man at all. Especially since the boy was beginning to come across problems that were outside of what Tony considered to be a 'safe' range.

The Vulture, for example. At the start, Tony had believed that the boy was blowing everything out of proportion, but had looked into it out of caution anyway. As it turned out the kid was right, the weapons dealer was dangerous. And now instead of listening to him and staying out of the way, Peter was throwing himself into harm's way at every turn.

No matter how many times Tony warned him to stay away, it seemed the kid was dead set on getting himself killed. So he added that to his list of problems, on top of dealing with Ross, mending shattered friendships, and fixing a broken American Icon.

Which thus far he had had no success with, not that he had tried very hard and Rogers avoided him now. If he walked into the same room that Captain America was in, the man would turn around and walk out. Or in the least, he would walk to the other side of the room and busy himself with looking busy, but Tony could tell it was fake.

Even when he made an attempt to communicate with the man, Steve shut him down. He would nod silently, shrug, shake his head. Any type of non-verbal conversation he could use to get the inventor out of his face he would try.

Which was a huge step back from where they had been, and Tony knew in the recesses of his mind that he was to blame. Steve had reached out tentatively, and Tony had brashly, like a fool, slammed the door in the shattered soldiers face. He thought after everything else they had been through Steve would be able to take it, but he should have known better.

Tony regretted it now. As he watched the others around him, he knew that he had come the closest to drawing the man out of his shell. It was possible that it was because of their history, Steve knew that Tony shared some of his experiences in a way. It could have also been because Tony was some thin link to the past he could never return to, or maybe it was because he knew they were both broken.

Whatever the reason, he couldn't deny that Steve had reached out to him in a way that he refused to do with the others. Now the man closed himself off from everyone all together.

Not even Natasha could reach him, though it seemed she came the closest out of the other Avengers. Steve would smile at the former SHIELD agent, have polite conversations with her, but every time Natasha walked away defeated.

To some degree, Tony wondered if Steve shared his distrust of the double agent. He couldn't blame him if that were the case. But at this point, Tony could only guess what the man was feeling or thinking and guessing could be a dangerous game.

"Tony," Clint's alarmed tone sounded from the doorway, and Tony's head shot up to look over at the man.

"What is it, Legolas?"

"Steve is gone."

The serious tone with which Clint spoke demanded Tony's full attention, even before the words registered in his mind at all.

"Steve is what?" Tony responded gobsmacked.

"He's gone, we can't find him, we've looked everywhere, all over the compound." The almost breathless words came. "He isn't anywhere, and some of his things are missing."

Tony went stone still for a moment, processing what Clint said, before swearing loudly and leaping to his feet.

"How can he be gone?!" He all but yelled. "Where could he be? Is he trying to get himself caught again? What in the world is he thinking!"

"You think if I knew we'd be having this conversation?" Clint shot.

Tony swore again, rubbing his forehead as he tried to push his panic down and think logically.

"Alright, well, we have to find the idiot," Tony groused, "we can't let him wander off into the great wide yonder. Get the team together for me, will you?"

"They already are, we're waiting for you. Come on, boss."

"I really _hate_ being the boss," Tony murmured as the two of them darted out the door to meet up with the team.

* * *

They wasted no time spreading out and looking everywhere they could, but it became clear within half an hour that Steve Rogers had no desire to be found by his comrades.

Tony couldn't imagine what was running through Steve's mind to make him run off, yet he couldn't help but feel if they had worked things out sooner this would never have happened.

It was hard to imagine where he might go, and Tony had a mind to implant a tracker under his skin once they did find him. He would do it, too, if he wasn't certain that the man would punch him in the face for even thinking such a thing.

Yet he wasn't without options, so he used the technology he had at his disposal. While the others checked the surrounding forest areas for any evidence, Tony took to the city and hoped that the DNA tracker F.R.I.D.A.Y had installed might do him some good.

When it finally picked up a signal, Tony breathed out a heaved sigh of relief. Steve was in the city, and Tony finally had a location.

He drove on, actually abiding by the speed limits for once and doing his best to not draw attention to himself. The last thing any of them needed was Ross finding out that they had Captain America stashed away out at the Compound. Or worse, that he had left the Compound of his own free will and was now up for grabs.

Tony wasn't sure what he was going to say to the super soldier once he found him, but as the shock ebbed away, he felt anger and annoyance spring up to replace it.

If Captain America was alright, Tony was going to throttle him.

He watched the blip on the screen of his watch get closer and found a good place to pull over. As he exited his car and began walking, scouring the area for any sign of the super soldier, a frown pulled at his face. Had the man ran away to a city park? It seemed like a strange location.

The dot got closer and Tony looked up, ready to breathe a sigh of relief when Steve finally came into view.

What he wasn't expecting was a hand aggressively slamming into his skull, causing stars to explode in front of his eyes.

Tony hit the ground with so much force he was afraid he might black out. Lifting his head, blinking, he cringed as he shifted and turned, trying to get a look at who or what had hit him.

His bleary eyes locked on the unfamiliar man who towered over him. The insane man's eyes were full of venom and rage, enough to almost glue him in his place. The man swung at him again and he rolled out of the way with as much speed as he could muster, watching as the man punched a small hole into the ground.

The realization bled into his mind that this must be one of the super soldiers as he hobbled to his feet. He tried in desperation to keep himself standing upward, despite the dizziness and nausea that washed over him. His head throbbed with pain. The man turned to square off with him again, and he couldn't help but grimace as he stepped back.

The super soldier looked ready to try striking him again when someone caught the soldiers hand and aggressively shoved him aside.

Tony watched as Steve's eyes swept over him and widened with concern for a brief moment before turning away. Steve turned towards the soldier, knowing better than to keep his back to him, and the man lunged forward, swinging for Steve's face.

He dodged out of the way with a measure of skill. Determination twisted onto his face as he grabbed the other mans arm and thrust his weight into him, hoping it would force the other soldier into the ground.

Instead Tony saw Steve's own legs as they were swept out from under him. His once teammate wound up tumbling to the ground with the man, grimacing in pain as the soldier jerked around and nailed him in the chest.

Tony watched the fight for a moment, his vision blurred and clouded. All at once he remembered they weren't alone in the city, and glancing around he noticed a small crowd gathering. He winced, the last thing they needed was to draw attention to themselves.

Shifting his attention to his wrist he pressed a button to alert the rest of his team and pulled himself to his feet. The super soldier threw Steve across the ground roughly, never leaving him long enough for a breath as he ran forward to re-engage him. Tony's mind spun as he tried to think of a way to stop the situation without incident.

He almost didn't hear Steve yell at him before he realized that the rogue super soldier was heading right for him again, and the man was ready to strike. Tony had only enough time to throw up his arms before the blow came down and struck him with such force he felt sure that it would have cracked his skull.

He howled in pain as his arms smacked against his forehead from the force, feeling sure that bone had broken as he dropped them to his sides. Pain shot through them in a sudden burst.

Somehow through vision blurred with pain, he noticed Steve's quick strides and was grateful when the man landed a blow to the soldiers head. Mentally he made a note to see to it that Steve got his shield back.

"We have to get out of here!" Tony growled through hitching breaths.

Steve nodded, helping Tony to his feet and watching the soldier, waiting for his next move while Tony made a staggering run towards his car.

Guilt stirred in Tony's chest as he ran away from a threat to the population. He felt guilty for leaving an area where people were bound to get hurt, but he knew he had no choice. If he called the Iron Man suit out, that would draw more cameras than the ones that were bound to already be recording the situation. More cameras, more eyes on Steve, more likely that Ross would find out everything that had happened.

Tony turned to find that Steve Rogers had not followed him at all. He could only stare in shock and horror as the Star Spangled Man with a Plan continued to engage the super soldier. Determined to do what Tony felt he couldn't do and stop the maniac in his tracks.

"Come on!" He screamed back at Steve, hoping that the man would listen to him for once.

The super soldier tore into Steve with more aggression than before, swinging blindingly fast punches at his head and stomach. Steve ducked, dodged, and returned with as much ferocity that he could, but Tony was afraid it wasn't going to be enough.

The super soldier's fight pattern was wild and unpredictable. It was clear that the original super soldier himself was having a hard time keeping up with this insane failure that Ross had created in his labs.

The soldier managed to get a firm punch on Steve's jaw. Tony cringed at the resounding crack that followed. Steve staggered back, winded for a moment, but a fire lit up his eyes and he pressed forward, determined not to lose this fight.

Unable to take sitting on the sidelines a moment longer, Tony engaged the device in his watch and smirked as his hand became metal wrapped in mere seconds. After engaging the Winter Soldier he had made some mild upgrades, this was the perfect chance to test it.

He leaped out of his car, running as fast as his dizziness would allow back into the fray. Hoping to draw the attention of the soldier, he yelled at the top of his lungs, and to his delight, the man looked back at him.

As Tony had hoped, this gave Steve the opportunity to strike, landing a blow to the back of the man's head.

Tony rushed forward, lifting his hand and firing a repulsor blast into the soldier's midsection, and within half a second, another to his face.

The man fell to the ground, unconscious, and Tony whooped in exhilaration. The pleasure at being part of taking the man down radiated in his chest. But before he knew it the adrenaline drained from his body, pain screamed in his head and in his arms, leaving him barely able to stand, and pleasure faded as he swayed.

"Tony!" Steve looked up at the man and took two steps in a single bound to reach Tony's side and catch him by the shoulders.

"Let's get out of here Cap, _now,_ " Tony demanded, his tone allowing no room for argument. "Get us in the car."

Stoically, Steve nodded and lead Tony to the car. Tony insisted in sitting on the driver's side with stubborn zealous, but Steve refused. He took the keys from the man as if he were drunk and sat him in the passengers' side, before crawling into the driver's seat.

Tony's eyes drooped as he stared forward, glancing over at the man now driving his car. Annoyance clawed its way into his chest and he huffed.

"You have some explaining to do, _Cap_."

If Steve didn't realize that leaving the Compound had been a mistake, Tony was going to make sure he knew that it was before this conversation was over. And he had the entire drive home stuck in the car with this man to do it.

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

I am SO SORRY for the delay in this chapter. I have quite a few excuses, laziness, writers block, zero inspiration and some other things that have been going on in my life, but I won't bore anyone with the details and will just apologize for taking so long. Hopefully, the next chapter won't take nearly as long to get put out!

I also want to thank all my new followers/fav/commenters! They've definitely been an inspiration to keep me going with this tale, and I'm super excited you guys are enjoying it as much as I do! I get super excited with each new email I get telling me I've gotten any one of these things. Seriously, it means a lot!

I have a few ideas of where the story is headed next, and hopefully, it'll be quite the ride. ;) Until next time!


	14. Unapologetic (Chapter 14)

Steve stared forward, hands gripping the steering wheel with so much force he knew there would likely be an indention from his hands. He knew that he was damaging Tony's hundred thousand dollar car, but he couldn't bring himself to loosen his grip.

He waited for Tony's barrage of insults for almost five minutes straight. When the man didn't say anything else he slowly ventured a glance over at him to gauge what he was thinking.

The man was staring out the front windshield, a pained and tired expression lingered on the man's face.

"Tony?" Steve started with hesitation.

"Are you finally going to talk?" Tony groused, reaching up to rub his forehead.

Silence spanned a few seconds as Steve stared forward, watching the road as he drove. "I don't know what you want me to say," he sighed after a moment. "Do you want me to apologize? Because I'm sorry you got hurt, but I'm not sorry for leaving."

A spark flashed in Tony's eyes and Steve knew before any words ever left the man's mouth that he was angry at him, again.

"What do you mean you're not sorry for leaving? What were you even thinking!" Tony barked, but then grimaced and put his palm to his forehead. A soft grunt of pain came from his slightly parted lips and he leaned back against the seat.

"I mean I'm not sorry for leaving," Steve responded without looking over at the man. "I'm trapped at the Compound, Tony, I can't do anything worth anything, and I'm a burden to everyone else."

Silence filled the vehicle. Tony was either silent from pain or in thought, Steve couldn't tell for certain which it was. He decided to continue after a moment, "I've been on my own since I was eighteen. I've never really fit in anywhere, not even in the Army. My faith's in people, I guess. Individuals. For the most part, they haven't let me down, which is why I can't let them down either. I can't sit around and do nothing while the world burns Tony, I just can't do that."

"So you'd burn the Avengers instead?" Came the growled response.

"Of course not," Steve responded evenly, "why would you even say that?"

"Because you think anyone is actually going to let you go all kamikaze and get yourself captured again, or maybe worse, while we're living and breathing? Did you even consider the fact that your team was going to come after you, and if any of us get implemented in you breaking out of the raft it's game over?"

"I guess I didn't," Steve mumbled, "I needed to get out."

"At least tell us if you're going to go try to kill yourself, so we can know not to come after you. You arrogant, self-righteous..." Tony swore, then rolled his eyes upward as a thought seemed to cross his mind. "Oh wait, are you going to get on to me for using _language_ again?" A dry chuckle tore from his throat.

The mocking and smug reply didn't come close to rattling Steve, why should it? He wouldn't let himself forget exactly who he was talking to, every time he did Tony reminded him exactly who he was.

"I never meant to hurt anyone," Steve supplied after a moment of contemplation. "Especially not the Avengers," he added.

"Of course you didn't. But you know, Cap, you tend to do things you don't mean to do," the grumbled, grouchy remark rubbed a Steve raw.

"Look who's talking," the bitter remark rolled off of Steve's lips before he was able to prevent it.

"Oh great, we're doing this again? Gotta tell you, Spangles, I have a splitting headache, for once I'm not in the mood," the gruff and aggressive reply came.

A murmured and a rather insincere apology rolled from Steve's lips as he stared ahead. As moments passed, however, concern grew in his chest and he sighed deeply. "Are you alright, Tony?"

"Peachy keen," a grumbled response came. "I hope you know, everyone else is going to be ready to kick your butt for me, since I can't at the moment."

"I'm sure they will." Silence filled the car before a confused expression drifted across the super soldiers face. "Were _you_ concerned about me?"

Tony froze, glancing over at the man in the drivers seat. "Of course not, Captain clueless, I was worried about this mess getting traced back to the rest of us."

Steve imagined that even to Tony's ears his tone and words had to sound as fake as it did to him.

"Really?" Steve asked, both of his eyebrows raised.

"Well, I'm not heartless, Cap. I'd hate for Ross to get his hands on you again," Tony relented. "I'm pretty sure the memory of how we found you is something that is going to haunt me for a while. Traitor or not."

A small smile flitted across the super soldier's face and he shook his head, sighing. "Are you alright, Tony? It looked like he got a few good hits in."

"Dunno," the inventor admitted. "Might have cracked a bone or two, and I'm pretty sure I have a concussion. Are you planning on running off again?" Tony changed the topic swiftly.

"Probably," Steve admitted.

Tony groaned and shook his head, regretting it the moment he did so and grimacing in pain. "Agh," he groaned. "Why? What's your problem?"

Frustration bleed into him and Steve gritted his teeth. He stared straight ahead and gripped the steering wheel harder than he had before, listening to the metal creek under his hands.

"Easy, Captain Kangaroo, this car is worth more than you are," Tony hissed grumpily.

"Would you have forgiven me if Rhodey had died?" The question seemed to blindside the man and he turned to glare at the man in the driver's seat vehemently.

"No," Tony responded with blunt force.

"I get that I hurt you, Tony, but it cuts both ways you know," came the dismal sounding retort. "I'm trying my best to forgive you, and acknowledge all of the wrongs that I've done, but we were both in the wrong. I see what I did wrong, but what about you? Do you see what you did wrong at all?"

Steve paused for a moment, before letting out a breath. "My best friend is dead, and any semblance of a normal life I had been building died in this stupid civil war. I don't have anything left except what I'm good at, that's all I had to begin with."

Tony sat stock still for a moment, before shaking his head. "That's a stupidly selfish thing to say, what about the others?"

"The Avengers are yours, more so than mine," Steve murmured, shaking his head. "I know they care, they're the closest thing to a family I have, but it isn't the same. I'm a danger to them, and you. If Ross finds out, it would spell disaster for everyone, you're right about that."

"Running off isn't going to fix that," Tony pointed out, "some of them are going to follow you, especially Sam."

"Maybe," Steve admitted. "But I'm not sure it's something that I can risk, not after everything else."

"Oh, shut up with your self-sacrificing hero play, will you?" Tony groused.

"Tony," Steve said, a hollow and defeated tone etching back into his voice, causing Tony to look up at him. "Can we please stop? _Please_ , I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to be enemies, so if we can't be friends, can't even be civil, maybe we shouldn't at all."

"So no more starting over, huh, old man?" Tony droned.

"I don't know if we're capable of getting past our differences," Steve replied, his tone sincere. "It doesn't seem like we are."

"Well, you know what I think? I think..." The man trailed off, staring out of the window with concern slipping into his features. A pinging sound came from his watch and he glanced down at it. "...Cap, pull the car over."

"What?" Steve blinked, looking over out the window as well and seeing some bright flashes out on the water near a ship. He couldn't quite tell where they were coming from, but it seemed like Tony knew.

"Pull the car over, right now!" Tony yelled.

Steve jerked the wheel to the side and pulled the car to the side of the road, jerking it into park and hastily following the billionaire out of the car. "Tony! What are you doing?!"

* * *

Tony's heart couldn't take much more surprise excitement. So as he surged forward the first thought that crossed his mind was how much he didn't need this right now. The second was how grateful he was they happened to be in this exact area, at this exact moment in time. And the third was how he was going to pummel Peter Parker into tomorrow, and if he had the power to he would ground the kid until he died.

If the kid lived that long.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he called his suit instinctively. Throwing his arms out he allowed the suit to fly forward from its position in the trunk of his car and encase him.

He rocketed into the sky and flew towards the Staten Island Ferry, that appeared to have exploded and was tearing itself in half.

Blasting towards it and with precision, he caught one half of the ferry and began lifting it back up to slow the sinking. Peering into the window, he saw Peter, dangling by his webs and trying to keep the ship from falling apart.

"Hi, Spider-Man," he said through gritted teeth.

Yes, the boy was definitely in trouble.

* * *

Back on shore, Steve stared out across the water and watched as the ship was pushed back together and repaired by Iron Man and his robots. He squinted, surprised that Tony had seen the ship in the distance at all, let alone in time to save it. Sometimes the genius truly did amaze him.

A 'thud' resounded and Steve glanced over to his left. He was surprised to see Spider-Man had landed a few feet away from him and was looking up towards some taller buildings, about to sling another web and swing off.

"Hey, kid."

The 'man', who Steve knew had to be a boy, paused and tilted his head towards him.

"Captain America?" The surprised tone made him smile. "Aren't you like a war criminal now? I heard you were in some floating ocean prison."

"You're not wrong, kid. A lot has happened, keep it between us, alright?" Steve felt amused for a moment before he found himself frowning. "Are you okay? Where you on the ship?"

"Uh, funny story about that actually..." He started.

"Oh, it had better be a _very good_ story," Tony's voice tore through the air as he landed his suit, staring the teenager down.

The boy turned his head back, he seemed a little irritated but it was impossible to tell with the boy's mask.

"I told you to stay away from this! But you hacked a multi-million dollar suit, so you could go behind my back and do exactly what I told you not to do," Iron Man scolded.

"Is everyone okay?" The voice sounded a little dismal, and Steve felt for the kid.

"No thanks to you," Tony's cold response came.

"No thanks to me?" Anger rose in the boy's voice and he stepped aggressively towards the suit. "Those weapons were out there and I tried to tell you! None of this would have happened if you had just listened to me!" Taking another step forward his tone shook, but his resolve didn't seem to. "If you even cared you'd actually be here."

The suit opened and Tony stepped out, causing Spider-Man to take three steps back and stare at the man in front of him.

"I did listen, kid. Who do you think sent the FBI?" Tony's exasperated voice caused Steve to step forward, catching the man by the arm.

"Tony, take it easy on the kid," Steve cautioned, and Tony tore his arm away from the man next to him.

"Zip it, this doesn't concern you, Captain," Tony hissed with rage in his tone. "It's between me and the kid."

"Mr. Stark, I.."

"I was the only one who believed in you, everyone else thought I was crazy for recruiting a fourteen-year-old kid."

"I'm fifteen..."

"No, this is where you zip it! The adult is talking! What if someone had died tonight, huh? That could have happened, and if it had, that's on you, get it? And if you died, I gotta say I feel like that's on me. I don't need that on my conscious." An odd expression crossed Tony's face, and Steve couldn't help but wonder if this boy was the source of some of his nightmares.

"Sorry," Spider-Man said, his voice weakened and timid. Steve glanced at the superhero and saw the boy for the kid he was, young and vulnerable.

Suddenly remorse flooded in his chest and he felt guilty for fighting him at the airport. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, it was nothing new to him. Boys not much older than Peter had enlisted in the war, Steve had fought alongside some of them.

"I'm gonna need that suit back," Tony's voice broke through his mind and he looked up, frowning a little.

"What? No, Mr. Stark, please! I'm nothing without this suit!"

"If you're nothing without the suit, then you shouldn't have it." The growled response left the boy hanging his head in shame.

"Tony, that might be a bad idea," Steve started out with hesitance, glancing at his comrade. He knew all too well what a little determination would do, and based on what Steve had seen, Peter seemed the type to fight with or without his fancy suit.

"I don't recall asking for your opinion, Rogers," Tony growled.

"I'm just saying, please think it through," Steve pressed.

"I have!" He barked. "Why don't you go sit in the car, before someone else sees you? You being a criminal and all, it might be a good idea. You know, if you feel up to taking my advice for once. It'd be great if you would."

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair and turning to walk slowly back to the vehicle.

Somehow in his gut, he knew Tony was going to regret his decision.

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

Okay, obviously I borrowed more dialogue from movies than usual, so disclaimer I don't own those and I'm sorry for being unoriginal, but the original dialogue felt right for the scene!

I hadn't considered spinning Peter into the story too much until Tony's dream, and now I wanna spin him in more in some areas so I hope everyone likes Peter haha, personally I adore the kid and the relationship that Tony has with him across the movies is amazing. I love it.

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter! Thank you for all the reviews in the last few! =)


	15. But Maybe It Can Be Better (Chapter 15)

The drive home was somber and quiet. Which was rather surprising to Steve, he had expected more yelling and berating from the furious genius.

Tony Stark limped back to the car after a few minutes and he grumbled while opening the door and forcing himself inside. He sat down with his head in his hand and an obvious look of pain spread over his features. He didn't say anything more to Steve, only motioned for him to drive and leaned his seat back with a groan.

Steve pondered, wondering if he should say something to him, anything at all. He wondered if he should argue about taking boys suit, but inside he knew that even if he tried it wouldn't do any good. Tony wouldn't listen to him in this state, or perhaps in any state ever again.

As hard as it was, Steve knew that he was going to have to accept that, whether he wanted to do so or not. There was nothing else that he could do, not anymore because Tony had made his position clear.

Arriving at the Compound, Steve watched as Tony hauled himself out of the vehicle without speaking to him. It seemed he was not interested in lecturing him anymore. Steve watched as the man stumbled and frowned at the sight.

Unable to watch Tony struggle, Steve jumped out of the car and hurried around it to catch him before he fell face first into the dirt.

The genius crashed into him and rested against him for a moment before he froze. That was when Steve remembered that maybe it wasn't a good idea to let the man get that close to him.

Tony looked up at Captain America, blinking as his discombobulated body rested against the other man. He knew he likely had a severe concussion, and somehow he doubted that running to Peter Parker's rescue helped his physical condition any. He felt sure that his blood pressure must have skyrocketed.

It took a minute for Tony to register that he was still leaning against Steve's chest. As he pushed the man away with his hands against his abdomen, he blinked again in shock feeling the mans ribs beneath his shirt.

"What the?" The murmur tore from the disoriented man's throat as he stared up at the original super soldier.

"Ah," Steve didn't respond but he shook his head, and Tony found himself glaring weakly at him.

"Have you not been eating? Don't you have like a souped-up metabolism or something? What's wrong with you?" He hissed in a dry voice. "Good grief, I knew your clothes looked weirdly loose but I didn't realize... I can feel your ribs," the man swore.

"Can you?" Steve inquired, shrugging his shoulders.

"You used to be a wall of pure muscle, how are you even still alive?" Tony shot. "How do you expect to save the world when you're slowly killing yourself?"

"I'm not killing myself," Steve muttered with disdain in his voice.

"You are!" Tony yelled, swearing again and shaking his head as pain shot through it. A groan escaped his lips as he clenched his fists. "Can't you admit that you're not perfect like my father was so convinced you were?"

"I'm not perfect," Steve admitted without resistance. "I never said I was, I never claimed to be, I'm not perfect."

Tony found himself blinking in shock, looking up at the man with skepticism.

"You didn't have to claim to be," Tony muttered, taking a step towards the Compound. Dizziness struck him hard and he almost fell before Steve grabbed his shoulder again and steadied him.

"Let's get you inside, Tony," Steve sighed, helping the man into the Compound and towards the medical wing.

The silence stretched between them and Tony wondered if there was even anything else that needed to be said.

He was shocked at Steve's condition, despite the fact he currently felt as if his entire being were in a daze and a fog. It was hard for him to even focus let alone process how bad Steve Rogers mental and physical state had to be.

The other Avengers made their way into the Compound and Tony knew that he didn't have to bother chewing Captain America out for leaving. The team would do that for him without his prompting, or Clint would give him that disappointed scowl that he had been perfecting.

The man had begun to take on the role of team parent in Tony's mind. He wasn't sure if that was weird or oddly appropriate since he was the only member of the team that actually had children that Tony knew of. Maybe it was a fitting role for the archer.

Tony could feel his mind drifting farther away from him and he finally allowed it. He let himself drift off into sweet nothingness and hoped that for once his subconsciousness wouldn't have any nightmares to terrorize him with.

* * *

Awaking with a start later that evening, Tony ran a hand across his face as a deep groan tore from his throat. He could hardly remember the others taking him to bed. He did recall that the doctor had declared he needed bed rest and pain medication, and to wake up every couple hours as was standard for head injuries.

Clint took the first watch, then to Tony's surprise Natasha had. It made him wish that Pepper was there with him, even though he knew it was likely that would never happen again.

If this entire mess with Steve hadn't occurred he might have been able to fix his relationship with Pepper. The Accords could have split the difference as he hoped, things could have gone back to the way they were with Pepper even if it didn't fix anything else, but he knew he was hoping for too much now.

As he stood up out of bed he felt dizziness overtake him the moment his feet hit the floor. A low groan escaped his lips as he walked into his kitchen for a glass of water, and to contemplate over his most recent in his string of nightmares.

It looked like Peter Parker was destined to be at the center of his dreams for the foreseeable future. Tony regretted getting him involved in all this now more than he ever had.

Tony thought over the day and what happened. A sigh tore through him at the memory of the kid's kicked puppy expression when he took the suit away from him. Maybe it had been cruel to send him off in an 'I survived my trip to NYC' shirt and Hello Kitty PJ bottoms, but in a way, Tony felt justified.

A nagging in the back of his mind also threw up Steve Rogers' remarks about his decisions, reminding him that it could be a huge mistake, and he cringed. Worry jolted through him at the idea that taking away Peter's suit made his life more hazardous and his thoughts drifted to Charles Spencer.

There was no way he could be the cause of another bright young boy's death, it couldn't happen. No, it _wouldn't_ happen.

Irritation shot through him and he shook his head. After all, what did Steve Rogers know about the kid? He had met him for such a short time. He had fought him and dropped a trailer on him. He couldn't have cared about the kids' well being then, though Tony knew if the man had wanted to hurt Peter he would have.

Still, he couldn't escape the gnawing feeling that something might go wrong with him. That perhaps Steve was right, given the circumstances.

He contemplated going and checking on the kid, but pushed it from his mind and reminded himself that from now on he needed to keep his distance from Peter Parker. His interference in the kid's life had put him in more danger than he had ever been in. As long as Tony was hovering around, Peter would likely continue to act out on his dreams of being an Avenger.

Tony wasn't sure what he had been thinking, involving the kid at all. He should have known with the kid's heart that he would want something more than old ladies and churros, but it was another mistake on a long list of them.

He tried to shrug it off as he looked down at his glass. He almost wanted to it with something stronger than water but decided the steady pounding in his head from the concussion was enough pain. There was no need to add a hangover to his current headache.

"How are you feeling?" The voice should have surprised Tony, but he was getting used to having people in his personal space again since moving to the Compound.

Who it came from, however, did surprise him a little. Steve Rogers was one of the last people he expected to be sitting in the kitchen and for the first time in weeks willingly speaking to him.

He eyed the tired gaunt looking man warily for a moment before responding. "I'm managing," Tony forced, frowning a little.

"Glad to hear it," came the soft response.

"Why did you venture over to this wing?" Tony ventured, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I was worried about you," Steve responded, shrugging his shoulders. "You did get hurt because of me and I feel bad about that, I wanted to be sure you were alright."

"Thanks for the sentiment," Tony droned with a sigh.

The super soldier didn't say anything else. He sat there staring down at the counter in front of him for a while. At least that's what Tony thought until he noticed a sketchbook in front of the man and realized he must have been drawing before Tony came in.

"You could have come to my room to check on me," he remarked offhandedly.

Steve nodded a little, picking up his pencil and fiddling with it. "I asked F.R.I.D.A.Y if you were awake and she said you weren't, so I decided to wait here."

It should be touching that the man had settled into the area and was willing to wait for Tony to emerge. He was kind enough to let him rest, but Tony still felt cold, and it made him feel a little sick to his stomach that that was all that he could feel.

He wondered if it would ever go away, and he was beginning to wish it would. All this fighting with Captain America, a man who had been his friend, was starting to wear on him. It was even beginning to leave him feeling a little more depressed than before.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to try one more time to reach out to the super soldier, to end this ridiculous fight.

"So are you any good?" Tony questioned, walking closer to the man and peering over his shoulder at the sketchbook.

Steve leaned to the side a little so the genius could see, not bothering to hide it.

Tony had to admit he was impressed with the mans' skill as he studied the almost flawless drawing of Avengers Tower.

"I'm selling the tower, you know," he said, quirking an eyebrow upward.

"I know, that's why I drew it, it's a bit nostalgic."

"I thought you said that it was big and ugly?" Tony tested, glancing at the man beside him.

"It grew on me," a soft smile played on Steve's face and he shook his head a little. He glanced up at the billionaire a moment before he flipped the page and showed him. "But I did draw the Compound too," he added.

Tony blinked and stared at the drawing of the Compound. In and of itself the drawing was remarkable, but what was most impressive to Tony was the sight of the Avengers also on the page. Steve had tied them into the portrait, training, talking, being so painfully them that it could have been an actual photograph.

"That's... really good, great actually," he cleared his throat a little, "nice job, Cap, didn't know you were that good of an artist."

"Thank you," Steve responded.

Tony found he wanted to say more, but the conversation while relaxed was a little awkward. Not to mention his headache was coming back full force from standing too long. He tried his best to shake it off but it was persistent.

"Maybe you should go lay down, you don't look that great, Tony," Steve said, and for once Tony had to agree.

"Yeah, see you, Cap," he muttered before turning and walking back for his room.

Anything was better than where they had been before, so maybe this short awkward conversation was a start. That in and of itself was enough to help Tony rest a little bit easier.

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

So, uh, I bet you guys thought I died huh? Haha, I didn't. I had a major bout of writers' block that I can't promise won't come back, a lack of motivation and inspiration to write, and then National Novel Writing Month appeared and I dedicated all of the creative energy I had (or didn't have) into that as I tend to do every November.

I do apologize for the massive delay, I always hate it when writers vanish for ages, but now I understand why they do. I will do my utmost to refrain from disappearing for so long again though! I want to get on a regular posting schedule after the holidays so we'll see how that turns out! Either way, it's good to be back, I've been rewatching some of the Marvel movies which helped fuel my creative energy a little bit.

I'm not sure how much longer this story has, but I do know that I have a few ideas for different ones when it's complete, so if you want to take a look at my profile and vote in the little poll I have there, it would mean a lot! I have my preference on which I want to write, but I would love opinions. =)

Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and stay tuned for more as soon as I'm able!


	16. The Plane Is Falling Down (Chapter 16)

_**Warning:**_

End Game spoilers within the first few sentences, so if you haven't seen the movie turn back now!

* * *

To say that Tony's dreams ever got any better would be a lie and the extremity of them this week only attested to that.

No, they didn't get better, they got worse, and he didn't understand why. It made him wonder if he should get some therapy because this never-ending cycle of him and the people he loved dying was beginning to wear on him.

 _I am Iron Man._

At least this time he had died saving the people he cared about the most, this time everyone except for him and Natasha had lived.

This fact alone didn't make coming back to reality any easier, though, especially considering he had dreamed about having a daughter with Pepper. The dream had been surreal and he wished that part of it could true, but no, life without Pepper was his reality.

The week had been mundane which in a way Tony was thankful for, it allowed him time to rest and heal and it was exactly what he needed.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to realize that he wasn't as young as he used to be. The injuries were becoming more difficult to bounce back from, especially since it was hard for him to rest at all. Everyone knew Tony Stark would rather be working any day.

The week had passed without him seeing any sign that Captain America was still on the Compound, which he found a little odd. He knew that he had to be here or the rest of the team would have notified him by now, but to see nothing of the man unnerved him a little. He had believed that they were making some progress, but maybe he had guessed wrong, and he hated being wrong.

He ventured down into the lounge with his head still throbbing a little, but at least it wasn't the searing pain from a week ago, now it was a manageable level of pain.

"Hey Tony, how're you feeling Iron Man?" Clint asked, peering over the couch like the bird of prey that he was.

"I've been better, but I've been worse, can't complain," Tony shrugged with a dull expression.

"Good to see you up and around again," Clint offered a half smile.

Tony couldn't help the surprise rising in his chest to hear the rest of the team agree with the archers' sentiment.

"Aw, I'm flattered all of you care."

He did a quick once over of the room and didn't spy Steve anywhere, but he decided not to ask and pushed it from his mind. He had spent far too much time in the last few months thinking about Rogers and the tension between them. It was becoming borderline obsessive. It hardly got him anywhere. It was time to dwell on something else, anything else.

"So, heard any more from Spiderling?"

Anything except that, that was undoubtedly and most definitely worse. Tony shifted his gaze back towards Clint and a frown crossed his face. "No, and I'm trying to keep it that way. I think it'll be better if I disappear from his life like I was never there at all."

The archer quirked an eyebrow upward and tilted his head to the side. "Are you sure, Tony? It seemed like you were getting pretty attached to the kid, and he was going out of his way to impress you."

"Going out of his way to impress me? He wants to be an Avenger! That's why he's going out of his way to impress me," Tony remarked with a dry sarcastic chuckle.

"Of course that's the only reason, it couldn't be because you're his hero or anything. It's definitely not that," Clint rolled his eyes and that gave Tony pause. "I think you're forgetting that you're Iron Man, which I don't know how all considering, and he's a, in all probability, star-struck teenager. I'm telling you that kid idolizes you, and why wouldn't he? You said he was like fourteen, right?"

"Fifteen," Tony mumbled as he rubbed his neck, shaking his head a little.

"It's pretty normal at that age," Clint responded with a shrug. "I don't believe that cutting yourself completely from his life is going to do him any favors."

Feeling conflicted Tony sat down on the couch and ran his hands across his face. He shook his head as a sigh passed his lips.

"I don't know, Clint. Honestly, what do I know about teenagers? I'm sure you know more than I do," he admitted with an annoyed tone. "Either way, though, I'd rather leave this mess where it lies and hope that the kid goes back to a normal life. Being around me isn't going to do him any favors either. He can't keep from getting himself into trouble with me around."

"You don't think he'll do that without you?" Clint chuckled, "believe me, buddy, he will."

Deep down Tony knew the archer was right, but either way, he shook his head and rolled his eyes a little. If anything happened to the boy on his watch, Tony would never be able to forgive himself. It would go on to a never-ending list of things that he was guilty for, things that he regretted. He didn't need anything else on his conscious, he wasn't sure if he could take it.

"So, how's the move going?"

It seemed that Clint realized that Tony wasn't going to budge on the matter and so he dropped the subject. He couldn't help but shoot the archer a grateful look, it was remarkable how much of a friend the man had become since their truce. Tony never would have imagined it before this mess.

"Good, it'll be finishing up tonight. Happy is over there heading it up, and once it's all packed the bird will be on the way. I'll be glad to have it over and done with."

"It'll be nice to have all that equipment here," Sam offered. "Isn't it a little bit of a dangerous move though?"

"It is, but it's handled. The plane will be about as secure as the old S.H.E.I.L.D helicarrier."

"I breached that once you know, we almost took it out of the sky, and didn't you hack into their databases?" Clint smirked.

"… maybe not a great comparison," Tony hesitated, rolling his eyes a little.

"Yeah, maybe not," came the snickered reply.

"Either way, it's completely safe. No one will mess with that plane tonight, and if they even try we have defensive actions in place, it'll be dealt with pretty quickly. There is nothing to worry about."

* * *

Later that night Tony found that he regretted his words, he realized that his arrogance was more damaging than he wanted to admit. Everything he had done, he had done with the utmost confidence.

In Tony's mind, moving was going to be simple and the plan was fool-proof, but he had been wrong. Someone had tried to take the plane, and in fact, they had almost done it.

They would have done it if it hadn't of been for Peter Parker, who should have been at his Homecoming dance, not taking planes out of the sky and dealing with issues that Tony should have seen long before they arose.

Finding the note the kid had left had been jarring, and the moment that Happy called to tell him what happened Tony had blasted out there in his suit to see it himself. When he arrived, he stared at the destruction and wreckage in absolute shock.

He was proud of Peter for doing this, truly he was, but he had done all this without his suit, without his safety net, and now where was he? Steve had been right; Tony deeply regretted taking the suit away from the boy. He stared at the burning rubble around him and wondered how the kid had done this and where he was now.

Was Peter injured? Tony decided that he likely wasn't since he wasn't still here, but he couldn't be sure. _What if he is? Where is he?_ Tony's mind demanded.

He swept the area with a scan, looking high and low for any trace of the young and naïve would be superhero.

A small blip showed up on his screen and he sighed in relief as he jetted towards it as fast as the suit would go. As he tracked the boy, his slight relief turned to mild dread and slight terror, realizing he might still be in danger.

The dot he was tracking was moving with sporadic movements, it was too fast and it was all over the place.

 _What are you doing kid, fighting someone else?_ Tony's heart leaped into his throat at the thought. It was possible, though it was also possible that he was web swinging his way back home.

The street from his radar came into view and Tony's eyes darted around.

Just as Tony spotted Peter, from the corner of his eye he saw it, a car hurtling through the air straight towards him. Thrown by a delusional and wild looking man that Tony could only assume was another one of Ross' super freaks.

He realized a second too late that the car was flying straight at him, and despite Peter screaming at him, he was too late to dodge it.

This night had gone from bad to worse in the blink of an eye.

* * *

Steve made his way into the lounge, stretching out his muscles and sighing under his breath. He glanced up at the others and paused, the concern in their tones startled him.

"Do you think someone should have gone with him?" Natasha questioned.

"Gone with who? What happened?" Steve narrowed his eyes a little. The others looked up at him, appearing a bit alarmed, and he knew they didn't expect to see him.

"Tony, someone tried to hijack the plane and Spider-Man stopped them, the plane was destroyed and Tony went to go check on things," Scott piped.

Steve froze for a moment, taking the situation into consideration.

"Spider-Man stopped them, without his suit? The kid did it on his own?" He asked lowly, then raised his voice for his final question, "is he hurt?"

"We don't know," Clint responded, "Tony didn't give us any more information, he blasted out of here after he got the call and we saw the rest on the news. No word on Spider-Man, or if the kid is alright."

Steve fought back the urge to swear as he ran his hand through his hair, sitting down for a moment, allowing the words to sink in.

"I told him not to take the kids suit," he mumbled before shaking his head and standing to his feet once more. "I'm going to go and make sure everything is alright."

"Steve, I understand why you want to do that, but you can't leave the Compound, you know that."

Steve felt surprised to hear Rhodey's voice and he glanced over at the other man. He hadn't spoken much to Rhodey since the ordeal, it was difficult to do, he felt responsible for the man's condition.

"I need to," he said, schooling his tone and biting the inside of his lip. "Tony might need some help, especially if the kid's hurt."

"I agree, but are you the best one for that, Steve?"

Though he wasn't sure that Rhodey meant to, the sharp words cut him and he had to fight not to wince as he looked away, considering the situation.

"You shouldn't leave the Compound for a multitude of reasons, first of all being you're a fugitive, but you can't overlook the fact that you might not be the one Tony needs to watch his back right now," Rhodey sighed, shaking his head, "no disrespect."

"I understand your point."

The soft tone sounded so unlike the voice everyone was used to that most of them did a double take to be certain the voice actually came from Steve.

After a moment of silence, Steve added, "is someone else going to go?"

"We were talking that over," Clint chimed in, "some of us are on house arrest and can't go, but someone should."

Silence spread over the group again for a moment before Steve turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving everyone stunned and confused.

"Do you think he's alright?" Scott cringed a little, "he looked a little pale."

"...You're right, but I think he's about to go no matter what anyone says," Clint responded, rolling his eyes upward at the form of Captain America walking down the hall, shoulders rolled back and a serious intensity to his walk.

"I hope he knows what he's doing," Rhodey sighed, rubbing his eyes,

"So do I."

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

First of all please don't hate me, I know it's been forever and two days and I do apologize for the millionth time. I make no promises for the future other than this is the last time I will apologize because I'm being upfront with you guys now.

I will stick this fic out to the end so never fear about that! I just can never tell when I'll become completely and totally unmotivated to write, and during those patches, it's hard even though I keep reminding myself I need to be writing. Writing is so fun for me when I'm motivated and I'm not drained, but it's work otherwise, so it sucks and that's why it takes a while for me to get chapters out.

But I will continue this story until it's done, and possibly even beyond, I do have more ideas and I'm excited about them!

Second of all, wow End Game wrecked me so of course, I had to tie that into the beginning and ultimately to a degree, the plot, it gave me an overall idea that I think I'm going to run with so I suppose I can thank it for that, haha!

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, and I'll try not to stay away so long next time! No promises but I'll do my best! =)


	17. What's Wrong With Him? (Chapter 17)

It was hard to breathe after being slammed into full speed by a car, especially when that car was hurled at him by a super soldier. Tony slid across the ground, incredibly thankful for the protection that his armor offered but still winded.

"Mr. Stark!" Tony heard Peter Parker's voice before the boy came into view, hovering above him with worry. "Are you alright, Mr. Stark?!"

Tony forced himself to sit up carefully, and he started to respond to Peter before he spotted another vehicle being thrown in their direction.

Iron Man grabbed the kid and jetted upward as quickly as he could manage, narrowly avoiding being hit again.

"Whoa!"

"What's going on, kid?!" Tony demanded with a swear, flying up higher to attempt to get out of range of the mad-man.

"I... I don't know Mr. Stark!" He stammered, swallowing hard. "I tried to reason with him, but I couldn't! He wasn't listening to anything that I said! It was almost like he didn't hear me, or if he did me talking just made him more... mad."

"How'd you come across him to start with?" Tony all but hissed at the boy, trying to quell the anxiety turning into a lead weight inside his chest.

"I was heading home, and he attacked me. I didn't start it, honest!" Peter tried.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, scan Mr. Parker for injuries," Tony growled.

"Scanning," the A.I complied, and after a beat of silence it continued, "detecting multiple abrasions and contusions, and two hairline fractures of the right femur and wrist."

It was difficult for Tony to bite back the swear that was on the tip of his tongue, but he managed to do so. "Peter, why didn't you call me?! Before you took on the Vulture?!"

"I tried!" Peter's tone was desperate, "I had Ned call Happy, but Happy didn't think it was important, I guess."

"Happy didn't think..." Tony trailed.

"Mr. Stark, look out!" Peter's sudden scream alarmed Tony more than he wanted to admit and as he glanced down, he realized that the man beneath them had taken to throwing other things now.

Such as the manhole cover that caused the repulsors on his left foot to explode. He lost momentum and balance and found himself tumbling back down towards the earth with the kid in his arms. As quickly as he could he shifted to shield the kid and prepared to take full impact to his back, and he wasn't disappointed as he hit the ground. The air was knocked from his lungs in a rush, and he could feel the ringing in his ears as his headache came back full force.

The kid seemed a little winded, but otherwise alright. Tony was vaguely aware that Peter was calling his name, but he found it hard to concentrate with blackness threatening to consume him. It snaked around his consciousness and called him towards the sweet embrace of nothingness, but he remembered suddenly, jarringly, that he couldn't give in yet. Peter Parker was still in danger, and the kid would never be able to beat the super soldier by himself.

Drawing himself back to the present, Tony sat up with some amount of difficulty.

"Are you okay?!" Peter asked, and the tone of his voice oozed fear.

"I'm fine, I'm alright," Tony responded with a wheezing breath, forcing air into his lungs again. He shoved Peter aside with more force than he intended, looking past him at the man. "Get out of here, Peter! Get home!"

"Mr. Stark, you need help!"

"You don't have a suit, I'm not risking it!" Tony yelled, jumping to his feet and firing a shot from his repulsion cannon at the deranged lunatic in front of him.

"But, Tony!"

"Did I stutter? Go home, kid!" Tony growled and fired again when the super soldier dodged his first shot.

This blast didn't miss, but to Tony's horror, it didn't even seem to phase the man who stalked closer to him like a cat about to attack its prey. Tony's mind went into overdrive as he tried in vain to figure out what to do, especially since he could no longer fly. Nevertheless, he walked towards the man, firing more blasts in hopes to stun him, and preparing to engage him in hand to hand.

He jetted forward before the man could pick up the car he was reaching for and slammed his iron wrapped fist directly into the man's jaw.

A swear escaped Tony's lips when the man barely flinched, he barely looked as if Iron Man had hit him at all, and for a moment Tony had to hand it to Ross, his super soldiers were incredibly strong.

The thought quickly left his mind when the man grabbed him and hurled him almost twenty feet away, however, and Tony reminded himself Ross wasn't worth complimenting for creating these utter psychopaths. He slammed into the ground and grimaced, any healing that had happened over the past week was definitely undone, and his head pounded angrily at the abuse he was currently taking. He groaned deeply, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing that he had some back-up this time around.

With difficulty, he pulled himself back to his feet ready to engage again but found that a scream tore from his throat when he saw that Peter was being held up by the throat by the man.

Peter was squirming against the man's grasp, his hands clutching and prying desperately at the one wrapped tightly around his throat, cutting off his air supply.

"Let him go!" Tony growled, blasting forward aggressively again, firing with as much power as possible at the man's head, careful to avoid Peter.

Before Tony got to him, he saw the same manhole cover that had destroyed his repulsor boot flying through the air and slamming into the super soldiers head, enraging him farther as he threw Peter Parker aside like a rag doll.

Tony scrambled to catch the boy and managed to do so before he slammed into the ground. He looked up and felt relief, oddly enough, when he saw Captain America taking on the wild barbaric man. Their movements so quick they became blurred to him, or maybe that was the concussion.

Steve surged forward, throwing punches at the man who was unphased by the ones that hit him and dodged more than he took. A scowl crossed the Captain's face as he took another swing and the other super soldier gripped his arm and forced him to his knees.

Grimacing, Steve glanced up and swiped a kick at the man's legs, taking him down in a quick swoop. His heart was beginning to race at the thought of how strong this man was, and how weak he currently felt, but he knew that Tony had to be the same, all considered. He rolled his shoulders slightly, placing himself in a defensive position and waited for the next attack, wishing that he had his shield.

The super soldier leaped back to his feet before Steve had time to register the action, and the punch that hit him directly in the face left him stumbling backward and seeing stars.

Barely having time to recover Steve lunged forward again, throwing blows at every vulnerable area he could think of, but to no avail. The soldier was good at dodging, better at blocking, and seemed to feel little to no pain.

Another blow sent Steve reeling back and landing on his back, winded. The soldier leaped on top of him, pinning him to the ground, and began punching him repeatedly in the face.

Steve groaned, throwing up his arms to attempt to shield his face, but the man jumped up and kicked him in the head, causing his ears to start ringing.

"Rogers! Get up!" He heard Tony bark at him and tried to force himself up, but the man kicked him in his side, knocking him back to the ground.

 _I feel so weak, why do I feel so weak?_ The thought flashed through Steve's mind, becoming muddled with the alarms screaming that he was in a bad situation.

The man went to throw another blow when his arm was jerked back, being restrained by what looked to be spider web, and Steve registered that the kid had entered the fight once again.

The distraction gave him enough time to leap to his feet and hit the man in the chin, dazing him only slightly, but Steve would take what he could get as he tried to trip him again, throwing another blow at his temple.

He felt before he saw the man grab his arm, and he heard the sickening pop as it was twisted out of its socket. He yelled as agony ripped through his shoulder, and he tried to jerk away from the source of it instinctively.

A flash from a repulsor blast erupted next to him, which knocked him free. He stumbled away a bit, grimacing as he tried to pull his shoulder back and pop it into its proper place.

It seemed like nothing would slow the soldier down, however, and before Steve had time to blink the man was back on him, throwing blows at him more savagely than he had been before. The angrier the man became, the more violently he fought back.

Another blow had Steve right back on the ground, trying to hold the man off to the best of his abilities, he heard Tony yelling at him and Peter Parker yelling at Tony.

Then the world seemed to freeze for a moment, and then the blows stopped falling. Steve heard the sound of the man before him retching before the soldier lurched forward and landed limply and with a sickening thud next to Steve.

Breathing deeply and blinking, slowly Steve stood up and stared at the limp form beside him, confusion building in his chest as his eyes swept the area for Tony and the kid. They both practically appeared at his side, with Tony looking more worried than Steve was used to seeing, at least directed towards him. "Cap, you alright? What happened?"

"Why'd he collapse like that!?" The kid chimed in, his voice sounding shrill.

"I..." Steve stammered as Tony helped him to his feet, "I don't know, I didn't do anything, it wasn't one of you?"

"No, it wasn't," Tony responded, retracting his helmet with confusion in his voice as he stooped down next to the other soldier, rolling him on to his back to get a good look at him. A swear escaped his lips and as he gasped a little.

"... He's dead..."

Steve was startled as he looked down at the man and also knelt next to him, pressing his fingers against his neck. "You're right," he breathed.

"Why? What happened? Did someone shoot him or something?" Peter blinked, moving a little closer to get a better look at the situation before him. "Whoa, look at his eyes, was he sick?

Tony glanced and noticed the yellowing around his eyes, and now that he took the time to look at him, the man looked positively ill.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, scan him," Tony mumbled.

There was silence for a moment before F.R.I.D.A.Y announced, "no sign of a gunshot wound or external contributing injuries. He appears to have suffered a subdural hematoma, and was in complete organ failure."

"What?" Tony gasped, blinking slowly. "Why? What caused that?"

"Unknown, boss," the voice sounded apologetic.

"He was strong, he packed a wallop, and then he just drops dead?" The uncertainty in Steve's tone caused Tony to glance over at the man and shrug his shoulder.

The billionaire schooled his features, forcing himself to appear more collected and calm than he felt. "Oh well, one less of them for us to have to deal with, at least," he sighed, rubbing his throbbing head.

"But Tony, it doesn't make any sense," Steve pressed, and Tony suddenly remembered that the man shouldn't be here, to begin with.

"Wait, why are you here?" Tony demanded, staring at the super soldier who took on the guilty demeanor of a kid with his hand in the cookie jar.

"I overheard the others talking about what happened, and I couldn't leave you out here alone to deal with it," Steve muttered.

Tony blinked, torn between feeling touched that the man would come at all, and annoyed that he would risk everything just to do it. Not to mention the small inkling of gratitude in his chest at the knowledge that without Captain America butting in, he had previously been fighting a losing battle.

"Well," Tony started, unsure how to continue his sentence. He felt a loss for words, it felt strange, and he wasn't sure that he liked the feeling.

"I'm glad you're both alright," Steve offered, swallowing hard, and Tony noticed sweat dotting the man's forehead. "You are both alright?"

He glanced over at Peter, taking in the kid's appearance now that he had a second to breathe. Tony felt relieved that other than looking a little banged up, Peter looked mostly unharmed, a weight that he didn't know was sitting in his chest as heavy as lead lifted, and he nodded slightly. "I think we're both good, are we good kid?" He questioned.

"Oh, yeah, I'm good," Peter breathed, offering a slight grin, "I'm good!"

"Are you good, Cap?" Tony asked, turning his attention back to the man before him, brow furrowing. "Because I've gotta say, you're not looking so hot right now."

Steve blinked, tilting his head lightly, and looking a little confused.

More concern began to build in Iron Man's chest as he stared at the original super soldier in front of him and he began to realize exactly how sick the man looked. Not only was his features gaunt, but he had a fevered looking glaze starting to appear in his eyes.

"Are you getting sick, Cap?" Tony frowned.

"Sick?" Steve sounded a little startled at the thought. "I... I don't know, am I?" He muttered.

"Hey, Cap," Tony took a step towards him, noticing the man beginning to sway a little.

"Mr. Stark, what's wrong with him?" Even Peter sounded alarmed.

"I don't..."

Tony wasn't able to finish his sentence before the man before he swayed once more and fell forward, landing on his knees as his breaths became more labored.

"Cap!" Tony quickly moved forward, sliding on to his knees in front of the man, bracing him by the shoulders to keep him in an upright position. He had to fight down his own nausea from the sudden movement and force himself to focus on the situation at hand. "Hey, Cap, stay with me, what's going on here?"

"I don't know, Tony, I don't feel right," Steve murmured, slumping forward and seeming to fall into unconsciousness.

"Cap?!" Tony yelled, alarmed. "Hey, Cap?! Rogers? Stay with me! Steve?!"

Nothing stirred the soldier in front of him, and fear gripped Tony's heart. "Hey, kid, hold him upright while I get my suit off!" Tony commanded, and Peter dropped to his side to help.

Tony stepped out of his suit and dropped back to Steve's side, pulling off the mask covering his face and brushing back his now sweat soaked bangs from his face. "Hey, Steve? Wake up, come on," Tony breathed, flinching as he noticed how heat seemed to be radiating off the man in front of him.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, what's his temperature?!"

"Core temperature 104.4 and climbing, boss."

Tony swore again and shook his head, growling, "alright Peter, can you help me get him home? I need your help, kid."

Peter eagerly agreed, and Tony quickly called the Compound for a ride as he and Peter hefted the no longer lucid super soldier to his feet. "Hey, I need someone to come get us, stat alright? I need you guys here like yesterday," he barked into the phone.

Tony wasn't sure what was happening to the man, but as his heart rate began to pick up and the pounding in his head grew worse, his gut told him it was bad. He could only hope that they could manage to get him back to the Compound without anyone seeing him, and then maybe his doctors would have some answers.

At least he certainly hoped that they did.

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

Guess who's back, back again.

Bet you didn't expect me to update so soon, now did you? Well, I didn't either, I was just feeling particularly inspired, plus I wanted to make up for all the lost time!

As for this chapter, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, I've always felt sloppy at writing fight scenes so I hope that it came out alright! I also tried a new way of writing this chapter by using Grammarly and doing most of the editing as I wrote instead of at the end in an attempt to avoid some grammar issues I usually have. I know that this isn't conventional but since I have so much trouble with grammar it felt helpful to do it this way instead of struggling to figure out what actually needed fixing when I was done. I hope that it worked and didn't just leave the writing feeling stiffer than usual, I did my best, but let me know either way!

I'm sure the next chapter won't be out nearly so quick, but I'll try not to take months since I'm leaving this on something of a cliffhanger, we'll see how that goes. ;)

Anyway, thank you to everyone for all the new followers and favs! Not to mention thanks to Trekkiehood for all of your reviews, not going to lie it really motivated me to chat with you, I appreciate your support! =D


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